









LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


Chap.TPZq Copyright No. 

Shelf. J ..£_8_2-4'T' 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




























A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL 








































THE UNITED STATES AND THE MACEDONIAN 


A 


Tar of the Old School 


BY 


F. H. COSTELLO 

h 

AUTHOR OF 

“MASTER ARDICK, BUCCANEER,” “UNDER THE 


RATTLESNAKE FLAG,” “ON FIGHT- 
ING DECKS IN l8l2,” ETC. 


Ellustrateti bg 
W. G. WOOD 




BOSTON 

DANA ESTES & COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS 


l- 


40366 


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"’WL (’OPlfJ* Kf(f <£| 

AUG 30 1900 

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OhOtH [/’VISION, 

L-SE f 8 1 9 0 0 


Copyright , i goo 

By Dana Estes & Company 


74363 


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Colonial p xm 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co 
Boston, Mass. , U. S. A. - 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 


I. 

The Yankee Barque and the 

Corsair 


ii 

II. 

Unavailing Pluck 



20 

III. 

Into Slavery . 



30 

IV. 

A Ray of Hope . . . . 



41 

V. 

Weary Days . . . . 



54 

VI. 

A Bid for Freedom . 



68 

VII. 

The Breath of Liberty . 



83 

VIII. 

A Bit of Yankee Audacity 



100 

IX. 

Making the Bashaw Uncomfortable 


118 

X. 

Some Earnest Work. 



133 

XI. 

The Tragedy of the Intrepid 



145 

XII. 

A Bit of Private Service 



157 

XIII. 

A New Complication 



169 

XIV. 

Good Luck and Bad . 



179 

XV. 

A Conspirator’s Resources 



193 

XVI. 

An Unexpected Misfortune . 



204 

XVII. 

In a Quiet Haven 



216 

XVIII. 

Under St. George’s Cross 



230 

XIX. 

Matters Grow Exciting . 



241 

XX. 

Ready to Try Conclusions 



251 

XXI. 

The Opening of the Battle . 



260 

XXII. 

What the Other Frigate Did 



274 

XXIII. 

Another Call of Duty . 



287 

XXIV. 

Something to Do at Last 



302 

XXV. 

Stubborn Yankee Tars . 



321 

XXVI. 

Desperate Work 



336 

XXVII. 

All Is Well at Last 



351 









































- 





















































































I I 




A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE YANKEE BARQUE AND THE CORSAIR. 

APTAIN WOODS looked serious, and from 



his perch on the foretopgallant yard once 
more pointed his glass at the stranger. 

“ Come up, Paul ! ” he soon after called down to 
his son. 

Paul Woods was the second mate of the barque, 
and, though only sixteen, had excellent judgment in 
things relating to his calling, and was thoroughly 
trusted by his father. He had made the most of his 
limited opportunities for education, and was now an 
excellent seaman and knew something more than 
the elements of navigation. He was tall for his age, 
good-looking, well-proportioned, and had such pliant, 
powerful muscles that he was nearly the strongest, 
and was certainly the most active, man on the ship. 
He had sailed with his father for about three years, 
or since the death of his mother, and had risen to his 


i 


12 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


present station through his own merits. Though he 
was an only child, his father had not babied him, and 
all the time that he had lived forward he had fared pre- 
cisely like the other sailors. He was naturally proud, 
— in the proper sense of the word, — and, though his 
surroundings were coarse and, at times, corrupt, he 
had always kept his self-respect, and, without advice 
from his father, had maintained himself in the way 
he knew the father desired. On the present occa- 
sion he was in the weather fore-rigging, trying, with a 
small glass, to make something out of the strange 
ship, when the anxious call already mentioned 
reached him, and hurried him forthwith aloft. 

“ Has she got a bad look, father ? ” he asked, as he 
swung astride the yard. 

“ She appears to be figuring to cut us off, and that 
certainly looks suspicious,” answered the captain. “ I 
can’t think why a lateen-rigger like her should have 
any legitimate call to act so.” 

Paul took the glass, focussed it, and brought it to 
bear. 

“ She does seem to be working so as to meet us,” he 
remarked. “ She is one of those long xebecs, and I 
guess a fast sailer. Well, what do you mean to do ? ” 

“ Hold my course, Paul, but get ready to fight,” 
responded the old man, with a fierce flash of the 
eyes. “ If she isn’t too strong, we’ll at least make 
her earn her money.” 

“ That’s what I hoped you’d say,” quietly answered 
Paul. “ I don’t believe in being ruined, and perhaps 
made slaves of, when there’s, a good crew and fight- # 


THE YANKEE BARQUE AND THE CORSAIR. 1 3 

ing materials aboard. Will you go down and see to 
getting ready, or shall I ? ” 

“I’ll go. You let me know of any change,” said 
the captain, briefly. 

He climbed back into the rigging and descended 
hastily to the deck. 

In those days — it was 1 803 — this part of the 
world, meaning especially the southern shores of 
the Mediterranean, was infested by the Barbary cor- 
sairs. They were not numerous, and concerted action 
by the leading civilised nations of the world would 
have swept them off the seas ; but, instead, they were 
tolerated, and, as one would almost think, encouraged. 
Some have even claimed that certain of the European 
nations were willing to have this shameful state of 
things continue, commercial jealousy operating as 
the cause, though others have argued that general 
indifference and custom kept it alive. Whatever the 
reason, it is at least certain that for years before 
this about all of maritime Europe and the United 
States paid these wretches tribute. Perhaps it should 
be added, as throwing a little light on the matter, that 
the corsairs of this period did not, as a rule, seriously 
abuse their captives. They generally held them for 
ransom, or retained them in a comparatively mild con- 
dition of slavery. Nevertheless, there were many 
instances of a departure from these customs, and 
the rovers were constantly, on one pretext or another, 
breaking their contracts and seizing men and ships. 
It will be understood, then, why Captain Woods was 
uneasy when he saw a rakish-looking, lateen-rigged 


14 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


craft lay her course to cut him off. The barque, 
except a small house, constituted all the old man’s 
earthly possessions, and when, besides this, his own 
and his son’s liberty were endangered, it naturally 
brought an anxious look to his face. The barque was 
fast, but the xebec was doubtless faster, especially in 
the present light wind, and, unfortunately, she was to 
leeward. If the barque could beat her at all, it must 
be before the wind, and this advantage the xebec’s 
position deprived her of. As to a fighting force, 
Captain Woods had under him two mates, a cook, 
cabin-boy and twelve seamen. 

While Paul was keeping a close and anxious watch 
on the strange craft, the old skipper was making his 
preparations to fight. The men were mainly young, 
sturdy fellows, all but two or three hailing from New 
England, and were of as good material for fighting as 
one could wish to see. The first mate, Mr. Prince, 
was a youngish, energetic man, bold and clear-headed, 
and had seen a little sea-fighting. Physically, he 
was short, but broad and burly, and was, perhaps, the 
strongest man on the ship. The cook was rather 
old and not very strong, and the cabin-boy, little Sim 
Burton, was too young and small to include in the 
fighting list. Finally, Captain Woods, himself, though 
now past sixty, was still strong and robust, though 
not so enduring and active as he had been. In fig- 
ure he was tall, but a little stooped, and was broad- 
shouldered and large-framed. Summing up the 
force, therefore, sixteen men, including Paul, might 
be counted on. To arm this force, the captain had 


THE YANKEE BARQUE AND THE CORSAIR. 1 5 

twelve cutlasses, fifteen pistols and four rifles, be- 
sides some axes and hatchets. In addition to this, 
each sailor was, of course, provided with a knife. 
For ordnance there was only one small gun, a brass 
swivel. It was at present mounted in the bow, but 
being small, could readily be moved. It did not take 
the captain long to get his force armed and prepared, 
having first briefly talked with them and made sure 
that they were willing to fight. His plan of battle 
was very simple, and hardly needed explanation. 
The swivel was to be brought aft and trained so as 
to sweep the deck, and the crew were to defend the 
attacked bulwark. Only keep cool, the captain 

said, and when the time came, make a fierce re- 
sistance, and they might beat the rascals off. 

Such things had been done, and it was to be re- 
membered that the defenders had several advan- 

tages, among them being the superior height of the 
barque’s sides. 

“All this, of course,” the captain summed up, “is 
supposing that we are right concerning this craft. 
As yet we are not dead sure, and she may turn out 
to be innocent and harmless.” 

Ending with this crumb of hope, he walked over 
to the weather gangway, where he halted and anx- 
iously waited for the next report from aloft. The 
stranger was now in plain sight from the deck, but 
was, as yet, too far off to be made much of. 

The strain of the situation was soon relieved. 
Paul all at once slung the glass over his shoulder, 
looked down, and shouted : 


1 6 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

“ She must be an Algerine . 1 She is getting 
ready to fight. There are lots of men on her 
decks.” 

“Very well. You may lay down,” called back 
his father. 

The situation now began to look the little com- 
pany squarely in the face, and, to tell the truth, it was 
desperate enough. According to Paul’s report, they 
would probably have to deal with forty to sixty 
pirates, — the fact that her decks were covered with 
men would not necessarily imply more than this, as 
she was a small vessel, — and all well armed. It is 
no wonder that some of the men now looked dubious, 
and that there were several pale faces. 

“ But we will at least try them,” the captain per- 
sisted, “and see if a hot dose won’t drive them off. 
If we can only drop them to leeward, and the wind 
strengthen, which looks likely, we may leave them 
wallowing in our wake.” 

By this time Paul had reached the deck, and his 
father turned to him and handed him a cutlass and a 
pistol. “ Don’t expose yourself needlessly,” he said, 
in a low tone. Then turning, and addressing Mr. 
Prince, he went on : “ Should you say that it would be 
best to shorten sail ? You have had some experience 
with these fellows.” 

“I don’t believe I should,” answered the mate. 
“ Such small craft don’t carry large guns, and it isn’t 

1 Corsairs from all the Barbary states were often loosely called 
Algerines. Algiers, up to this time, was more noted as a pirate 
stronghold than either Tunis or Tripoli. 


THE YANKEE BARQUE AND THE CORSAIR. I f 

their aim to cripple the rigging. They want to keep 
their prizes in as good shape as possible.” 

“Very well; let everything stand, then,” returned 
the captain. “What do you think of the situation ? ” 
he added, in a lower tone. “ Do you believe that we 
have a little show ? ” 

“ I don’t see much of a one,” answered the mate, 
in the same key. “ I think they are too many for us. 
At the same time, I wouldn’t strike. I’d fight awhile, 
anyway, and then you can probably make good terms. 
They don’t want dead men so much as they do live. 
Besides, we may sicken ’em by a hot peppering, as 
you said, and manage to drop ’em astern.” 

“All right; we’ll try it,” said the captain, setting 
his lips. 

Paul had now come near enough to join in the dis- 
cussion, and his father briefly repeated the mate’s 
opinion. 

“Well, I should think that might be so,” he re- 
marked. “ We shall have an advantage because they 
will try to take us alive, and, if we have to surrender, 
they won’t be likely to kill us. But that makes me 
think of something. Everything must depend, if we 
do give them that hot dose you speak of, in getting 
promptly clear. It will be necessary to have some- 
body to stand by and cast off the grapplings. Do 
you want me to see to it ? ” 

“Yes, and let one of the hands — call it John 
Gardner — see to it with you,” was the answer. 
“ Both of you take axes, for there may be cutting 
away to do.” 


1 8 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

“ I want to ask one more thing,” said Paul, after a 
moment’s reflection. “ Perhaps you’ve thought of it, 
but won’t it be a good plan to give them a little hot 
water ? ” 

“ I had thought of it, and told Joe to heat a boiler- 
full,” answered the captain ; “ but it had slipped my 
mind, and I am not sure that he has done it. You 
may see to it, if you please.” 

There was time for few more preparations, for the 
corsair was now within long musket range. It could 
be seen that her decks, as Paul had discovered, were 
crowded with ruen, and already there was a distinct 
sparkle of weapons. The fellows seemed to be 
dressed mainly in black and white, though with some 
patchwork effects of bright colours, and here and 
there one glittered, as he moved, suggestive that he 
wore a piece of old-fashioned armour. The craft her- 
self had three masts, with a square sail and a small 
lateen rig on the foremast, and long lateen yards on 
the main and mizzen. She could not have been over 
a hundred tons burden. 

Still nearer she crept, and then, all at once, she 
fired a gun and sent up a little flag. It broke out at 
the forward truck, and was blood-red, without a letter 
or device. 

“That settles the doubt, if there was any,” said 
Mr. Prince. 

“ She wants us to heave to, I suppose, but instead 
I’ll answer with our flag, and hold on,” said the 
captain. 

The flag was kept handy, and in a trifle of seconds 


THE YANKEE BARQUE AND THE CORSAIR. 1 9 

it broke out at the mizzen peak. As it extended its 
length, and displayed the fifteen stars , 1 the men broke 
into a low cheer. 

“ Stand by, everybody ! ” cried the captain, the 
next moment. 

The xebec had suddenly swung her bows and, 
with wonderful celerity, headed up and ran obliquely 
toward the barque’s quarter. 

“ All ready ! ” said the captain, low and hoarsely. 
“Take them as they show above the rail.” 

The next moment the graceful but deadly little 
craft swept in, and, with collapsed foresails, grazed 
along the side. In response to shouted orders, the 
grapplings were thrown and caught over the bul- 
warks. Then, with a sudden outbreak of wild yells, 
the pirates rose in a mass and leaped, like so many 
great cats, for the barque’s rail. 


1 No new stars had then been added to the flag of 1794. 


CHAPTER II. 


UNAVAILING PLUCK. 

F OR a moment it might have seemed to an ob- 
server that the pirates were to have it all their 
own way. Not a man was in sight to oppose them 
as they sprang up and clutched the barque’s rail, and 
they pulled themselves unmolested to the top, and 
showed their row of fierce, bearded faces and half- 
naked, tanned, or swarthy figures. But this was for 
the moment only. Mr. Prince, acting under orders, 
had held his men back, — had they crowded to the 
rail they would have been targets for the rest of the 
gang below, — and only as the boarders lined the bul- 
warks did he give the word for the sudden and 
furious resistance. The American eye has always 
been true, and though the untrained tars were terribly 
excited, and many of them knew little of firearms, 
they managed to get some sort of bead, for, as their 
rifles and pistols banged, four of the straddled figures 
suddenly collapsed and pitched off the rail. 

“ That’s the talk ! That makes the cut-throats 
sick! ” roared Mr. Prince. “Now all ready with the 
cutlasses ! ” 

The men scarcely needed encouragement, for their 
nerves were steadying and their fighting spirit was 


20 


UNAVAILING PLUCK. 


21 


rising. They leaned a little forward, in their read- 
iness, and the lumps in the sides of their jaws showed, 
and their big, strong hands belittled the weight of 
their cutlasses and axes. Two or three spit out 
quids of tobacco as though to add the last touch of 
preparation. 

They were scarcely braced and ready before the 
pirates, two leaders heading them, jumped off the rail 
and broke toward them. Mr. Prince stood at the 
after end of the line, and at this crisis took one short 
step ahead. The nearest of the pirate leaders, a tall, 
swarthy, spindling-bearded man, with a lean neck, 
made a kind of cat-like dart and jabbed a short spear 
swiftly at the mate’s breast. If he had turned his 
head to the left, at the moment, the thrust would 
have lost its sustaining force, for he would have 
seen that it was his last deed on earth. The mate had 
glanced up the deck, and at that very instant jumped 
swiftly back, and as his feet touched the planks the 
air was full of a deafening noise. 

Captain Woods was of course looking for his oppor- 
tunity, and at that moment found it. The gun had 
as a charge rifle-balls, buckshot, and small nails, and 
it was trained squarely on the rushing line. The blaze 
of its fire was followed by a great burst of thick smoke 
which rolled down the deck, and for a moment blotted 
out all the arrayed figures. Then began to come out 
of the obscurity sharp dog-like cries and deep groans, 
and the cloud thinned, letting through the widely 
spread line of stern sailor faces, and over against them 
the savage or bewildered countenances of the board- 


22 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


in g party. The rest of the cloud was gone the next 
instant, and at that heads that were not in sight till 
then appeared, and they were joined to maimed and 
bloody bodies. Figures to the number of four or five 
were lying still on the planks. 

“ Hurrah ! ” thundered the powerful bass voice of 
Mr. Prince, breaking out almost like another gun. 
" Now’s our time, boys ! Come on and give it to ’em ! ” 

The men joined in a wild kind of screaming hurrah, 
and broke like a torrent across the deck. The mate 
led them, and in a twinkling they were slashing and 
thrusting like mad at the confused pirates. 

Paul Woods, from his station forward, had breath- 
lessly noticed all their doings, and though he had 
thought it prudent to step in board a little, as the 
swivel was fired, — for it pointed dangerously near his 
way, — he came instantly back, and as the charge was 
made was crouching at the foot of the shrouds. He 
saw Mr. Prince strike a tremendous blow at the second 
leader, a big, brown-bearded man, and saw the mate’s 
weapon snap off at the hilt, though the blow beat down 
the other sword almost upon its owner’s head. The 
next instant he saw one of the sailors jump in and 
strike at the brown-bearded man, but only to receive 
a sudden kind of rebounding stroke that laid the man’s 
shoulder open and sent him staggering to the deck. 
Meantime, Mr. Prince had snatched up a discharged 
rifle, and, with the butt uppermost, as a club, was 
again renewing the fight. This little check, how- 
ever, at such an important point, had given the other 
pirates time to rally, and the sailors were all at 


UNAVAILING PLUCK. 


23 


once met by a flashing show of yataghans and long 
daggers. 

Paul looked once swiftly aft, and was just in sea- 
son to see his father pick up a cutlass. It w^s 
enough, for it showed Paul that the critical moment 
had come, and with a hurried word to John Gard- 
ner — who was crouching a few paces behind him — 
to stay where he was and be ready for orders, he 
shortened his hold on his axe and ran like a foot- 
racer to where the tangle of fighters joined. 

He was terribly excited, but by a mighty effort 
kept his head. Close to him two half-naked pirates 
were closing in on one of the sailors. The man was 
thrusting desperately at them, but was bleeding from 
a cut on the arm, and was evidently about to go 
down. Paul took a step and let go at the nearest 
pirate’s legs. The man half turned, but the blow 
was too quick, and he was driven almost off his feet, 
and came in a collapsed heap to the deck. The 
other pirate turned his head, but at that moment the 
sailor improved his chance, and drove in a final 
thrust. The man took a step back and rolled like a 
felled tree into the scuppers. 

Paul now threw away his axe and drew his cutlass. 
He was in the act of starting for the other end of 
the line, when some of the fighters swayed one side, 
and he saw that which caught his attention. Mr. 
Prince was still battling with the big Turk, but was 
now evidently having the worst of it, and was al- 
ready retreating. The Turk, his yataghan advanced, 
was keeping up a rapid play of short stabs and blows, 


24 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


at the same time gathering himself together, as 
though for a rush. The mate was still using his 
clubbed gun, but handled it with an effort, and was 
clearly tiring. His bare hands and arms, too, were 
bleeding from several wounds. It was evident 
enough what the end would probably be, and that 
before long, and though Paul was anxious to join his 
father, he changed his plan and prepared to get the 
mate out 'of his difficulty. 

As it happened, the big leader just then grew im- 
patient, and, with a startling shout, made a fierce 
dash. The mate stood him off for a moment, but 
then gave way and backed out into the middle of the 
deck. This was Paul’s chance, and, like his father at 
the swivel, he improved it. The Turk — for such 
he seemed to be, rather than a Moor or Arab — 
was not looking that way, and for an instant was a 
perfect target. Paul had one loaded pistol left, but 
he did not use it, and, instead, lowered his cutlass 
and drove it at the Turk’s exposed side. It seemed 
as though he must run the man through, for the 
movement was executed like a flash, and there was 
no one by to interfere. But to his amazement, the 
point of the steel merely made a kind of dent or soft 
impression, and then glanced off. The tunic that the 
fellow wore was at the same time slit, and for the 
moment showed under it a glimpse of bright steel. 

Paul had put so much force into the thrust that 
when it brought up his hand was nearly forced from 
its grip, and his whole arm was all but numbed. 
But he had the presence of mind to jump instantly 


M ¥ 



“IT WAS EVIDENT ENOUGH WHAT THE END WOULD BE.” 



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UNAVAILING PLUCK. 


25 


back, thus escaping any return blow that the Turk 
could manage to give, and the next moment he 
whipped out his pistol. 

But at this point something that was again unex- 
pected happened, and suddenly put an end to the 
three-cornered fight. Though the Turk’s shirt of 
mail had held against the point of the cutlass, it was 
not stiff enough to resist the bruising and jamming 
effect of the thump, and the fellow slowly bent over 
sidewise, and lowered his yataghan. Mr. Prince 
saw his opportunity, and jumped in, raising his 
clubbed gun, and Paul checked the aim that he was 
in the act of taking. The vengeful blow was already 
coming down, when a pistol somewhere behind the 
Turk went off, and the mate let the gun slip through 
his fingers and sank to his knees. Paul cried out in 
sorrow and dismay, and once more raised the pistol, 
but just then the Turk bounded one side, and was 
for the moment covered by a struggling knot of 
both pirates and sailors. 

There was no time for further delay, for the fight 
was growing every moment hotter, and the old cap- 
tain must be already taking a part in it, and Paul ran 
back till he had cleared the zigzag line and sprang 
around to the starboard quarter-deck. There the 
old captain was, to be sure, bareheaded and in his 
shirt-sleeves, hacking, away to maintain his part of 
the line. Two sailors, were near him, and at the 
moment the three were fighting four of the pirates. 
Paul drew a quick breath, — it gave him a new, half- 
horrified, half-furious feeling to see his father in such 


2 6 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


peril, — and then threw himself, with all his powerful 
young might, upon the nearest of the assailants. 

Just what happened in the next few moments Paul 
always declared that he could not remember. He 
knew that he hacked and thrust like a demon ; that 
the man he was opposed to suddenly had a queer 
appearance of grinning, and then abruptly dropped 
to his knees ; that all around him was a gritting noise 
and clashing of steel, and the slapping of advancing 
and retreating feet. The next that came out plainly, 
he said, was a tumultuous kind of break in the line of 
the pirates, leaving a short, open space in the deck, 
and then the darting up of three of the panting crew. 

“ Stand by ! Face about ! ” thundered the old cap- 
tain’s voice, and all at once Paul was able to steady 
himself, and get the sense of the situation. It seemed 
that the pirates had finally broken in the defending 
line, probably doing so first at the forward or bow 
end, and had then made a kind of helter-skelter rush, 
striking down all but these three of the remaining 
crew. As for the cause of the retreat of those who 
were attacking the captain and his immediate com- 
pany, Paul did not stop to reason much about it, 
but guessed that it was because the fellows were 
growing a little disheartened, and were glad to take 
advantage of the change in the general situation. 
This bit of observation and reflection took Paul but a 
moment, and he caught the first word of the order 
that his father now gave. 

“ Stand by, all ! Here, Jim and Milt, take these 
pistols. Sim, hand me that rifle. If these fellers will 


UNAVAILING PLUCK. 2? 

give us quarter, of course I’ll strike ; otherwise, let’s 
die like men.” 

Paul felt a strange, sickening thrill run over him. 
It was the first time that day that he had been really 
afraid. He seemed to see his father and his ship- 
mates going down before that last rush, and felt the 
pang of entering steel in his own vitals. For a mo- 
ment the cutlass trembled in his hand, and he half 
shut his eyes. 

“ I’d rather drown than be stuck or shot,” said a 
thin, high voice just behind him; “and if it comes 
to that I’m going to jump overboard. That won’t be 
cowardly, will it, cap’n ? ” 

The speaker was little Sim Burton, the ship’s boy. 

“ No indeed, Simmy ! Make it as easy for your- 
self as you can,” the captain answered, not without 
a little jar in his voice. 

“I’ve got a pistol. It’s a Fourth of July one, but 
I guess it’ll kill a man,” the boy reflectively spoke up 
again. “ Anyhow, I’ll try it. I mean if they won’t 
let us strike.” 

The colour, which had begun to leave Paul’s 
cheeks, suddenly came back. He looked around at 
the boy and smiled. 

“They seem to be hangin’ in the wind, sir,” here 
spoke up Milton Brown. “ Do you think they’re 
going to parley ? ” 

“ It looks like it,” answered the captain, after a 
quick glance. “Yes, I think that is what the delay 
means.” 

In fact, the big brown-bearded officer, and an old, 


28 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


dried-up, but richly dressed pirate, had exchanged a 
few words, and the big man was pushing his way to 
the front. The main body of the gang — enough to 
fill the waist of the barque — were standing at ease, 
a few talking, and five or six tying up their wounds. 
The big pirate thrust those in his way unceremoni- 
ously aside, and stepped in front of the line. 

“Captain,” he said in very good English, address- 
ing the determined old skipper, “his Excellency, 
our commander, has concluded to grant you quarter. 
Throw down your arms, therefore, and step one 
by one this way.” 

“There’s no help for it,” said the old man, with 
a long breath. “They’re too many for us. We 
accept quarter,” he answered the pirate. 

He threw down his cutlass, stood his rifle against 
the bulwarks, and walked out into the deck. At 
a sign from the big Turk, a fellow with an arm- 
load of handcuffs came forward and fettered the 
old man’s wrists. Paul then laid down his arms 
and was treated in the same way, and one by one 
the others followed. There were just six in the 
little band, all that were left of the ship’s company. 

The pirate commander then returned to his own 
vessel, and the big Turk — whose hurt did not seem 
to be serious — took command. There were only a 
moderate number of wounded men to see to, for 
the lightly hurt of the pirates had returned to the 
xebec, and the American wounded had been some 
time since despatched. At least, there were none 
left when the fighting stopped. The Turkish officer 


UNAVAILING PLUCK. 


29 


then went on to rid the ship of the dead bodies. No 
ceremony was used, whether with friend or foe, but 
one by one they were prcked up and pitched over the 
rail. Among the last, to Paul’s surprise, was the 
body -of the cook. He had not been seen since 
the captain had ordered him to prepare the copper 
of hot water, and it was probable that he was shot 
and killed — no doubt by a random bullet — while 
carrying out this order. The most pressing things 
now being done, the prisoners were massed in a 
gang and taken below, and the pirate commander 
told off from his followers a prize-crew. The grap- 
plings that held the two vessels together were then 
cast off, the barque was put about and her course 
laid about southwest. The xebec, in the meantime, 
had filled away, and was taking the lead in the same 
direction. 

The prisoners had been halted in the main cabin, 
and while two swarthy pirates mounted guard over 
them, a petty officer motioned for them to sit> 
and when they were down clapped leg-irons on each 
man. He then said something to the guards, and 
went on deck. Left to themselves, the poor fellows 
tried to pluck up a little courage and exchanged a 
few words, but as the guards scowled and looked un- 
easy, they desisted and prepared to wait stoically for 
what should next be in store for them. 


CHAPTER III. 


INTO SLAVERY. 

I T was not until the night of the fourth day that 
the xebec and her prize made the harbour of 
Tripoli. During this time the prisoners were fairly 
well used, — that is, they were given enough- to eat 
and drink, and were not subjected to any indignities, 
— and except at night were allowed to converse. 
The big Turk, and one who seemed to be his chief 
officer, occupied respectively the captain’s and mate’s 
berth, and took their meals in the cabin, but they 
seldom spoke to the prisoners. The latter, in turn, 
— acting on the captain’s advice, — did not try to 
make talk, but waited quietly and with dignity till 
they should be told what they so much desired to 
know. They understood well enough, of course, 
that they were to be disposed of as slaves ; but 
they could not guess to whom, or for what service, 
and this they were growing intensely anxious to 
learn. It would make all the difference in the world 
whether they were to be turned over, say to some 
government officer, or whether they were to be sold 
through a private source, as household slaves. In 
the first case they would be worked hard and have 
little to eat, and in the second, — unless they happened 
30 


INTO SLAVERY. 


3 


to fall into unusually cruel hands, — they would be 
likely to be given moderate tasks and have decent 
food and shelter. The captain understood these 
facts, as he had picked them up from various sources, 
and he explained them to Paul and the others. Still, 
they thought it best to stick to their idea of showing 
no concern in the matter, and of maintaining their 
air of quiet and patient dignity. 

Of course they were keeping account of the time, 
and knew about when the xebec and her prize ought 
to make port, and they were therefore prepared when 
a rather good-natured Moor came down to act as 
guard, and told them that the harbour of Tripoli 
was just opening ahead. 

In a few minutes a quicker tramping on deck, and 
a new motion of the ship, showed that they were 
already entering the harbour, and soon after a gun 
on the xebec was fired, and the barque’s canvas 
begun to come in. They listened, and an answering 
gun was fired from the shore ; and with that the 
barque began to come into the wind. 

The three men and little Sim looked inquiringly 
and anxiously at the captain, and Paul’s heart beat 
faster. Just then the companion door opened and 
the big Turk came down. He was followed by a 
fellow with a bunch of keys, and without a word the 
leg-fetters of all were unlocked and taken off. 

“Now come with me,” said the commander, and, 
with a nod to the guards to fall in behind, he led the 
way to the deck. 

As they expected, the barque was well inside of 


32 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


the sheltered harbour of Tripoli, and the city itself 
appeared on the incline of the shore just ahead. The 
sun had set, but the light was strong enough to bring 
out the gray walls that shut in the jumble of white 
houses, the umbrella-like palms, the swelling dome 
of a mosque, and, above all, the great mass of the 
bashaw’s castle. The shoreward part of the harbour 
was dotted with the various xebecs, ketches and 
other peculiar craft of the Mediterranean rig, and 
just off the castle itself were the bashaw’s largest 
and best-armed fighting vessels. These consisted 
of two war-schooners, a brig, and at least fifteen or 
twenty gunboats. 

“ In a few minutes you will go ashore,” explained 
the Turkish captain. “As you are such a choice 
lot, my superior has concluded to send you directly 
to his Excellency’s castle.” 

“ Can you tell us,” inquired the captain, thinking 
the proper time had come to speak, “ what will finally 
be done with us ? ” 

“ Why, I rather think that you will be put to work 
about the streets or in repairing the walls,” answered 
the Turk. “ I don’t believe that you will be harshly 
used, though, and you will probably be allowed to 
make short days.” 

“ Well, I thank you for telling us,” said the cap- 
tain, smothering a sigh. “ I suppose it is as good 
news as we could have expected.” 

The others had been listening anxiously, and the 
four sailors now wore decidedly downcast and des- 
pondent looks. 


INTO SLAVERY. 


33 


“ Cheer up, boys ! ” said the plucky old man. 
“ This isn’t the worst kettle of fish that ever was. 
I’ll try to do something for you, and get you out 
before I’ve done with it.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” said one of the men, brighten- 
ing a little. “ We thought you’d stand by us.” 

“ Sure I will, for you deserve standing by ! ” said 
the old skipper, with feeling. “ The only trouble will 
be” — he dropped his voice so that the Turk, who, 
meantime, had moved a few steps away, might not 
hear him — “ I shall have to scratch around to raise 
the money to do the helping with. The barque was 
nearly all I had,” — for an instant his voice trembled, 
and he cast a swift glance around the decks and aloft, 

— “ but I do still own a little house, and I have friends 
that I think will give me a lift. As I say, I won’t 
forget you, and I guess — I mean I am pretty sure 

— that we shall finally get out of the scrape.” 

“ That’s cheerin’, sir,” said the man who had 
spoken. “ I guess we’ll be able to show these 
niggers a stiff upper lip.” 

The second man — the sailor, Milton Brown — as- 
sented by an energetic nod, and the third brightened, 
and bit off a fresh quid of tobacco. 

“ I’ll manage to keep track of you,” the captain 
concluded, “ and you shall hear from me as soon as 
there is occasion.” 

The men understood him, and all three nodded 
satisfiedly. Soon afterward the anchor was dropped, 
and the pirates furled the rest of the sails and low- 
ered and manned the boats. 


34 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ Ready to go ashore,” said the Turkish captain, 
turning to the old skipper and the other prisoners. 

He pointed to the largest boat, and in silence the 
little company filed down into it. The big officer 
himself followed, and the boat’s head was laid for the 
nearest landing-place. 

A crowd of people was already gathering there, 
and raised a shout of commendation and triumph as 
the boat drew near. The Turk did not at once pull 
in, however, for his superior on the xebec had not yet 
put off, and the men were ordered to slacken stroke 
and merely hold the boat where she was. 

But the leisurely old Moor was ready at last, and 
soon his long gig came flashing by, the swarthy 
commander himself sitting at ease among a heap 
of cushions. 

He was quickly at the broad quay, and as he 
stepped ashore the crowd shouted again and began 
to form a line through which he could pass. He 
seemed to pay little attention to the ado, but gave 
some order, and one of his men came to the edge of 
the quay and beckoned to the Turk’s boat. The 
signal was instantly obeyed, and the men vigorously 
gave way, quickly covering the little remaining dis- 
tance. As a man forward jumped out and steadied 
the bow, the waiting crowd set up a sharp and seem- 
ingly angry yell, and all at once began to pour out 
upon the quay. 

The big Turk was instantly on his feet. He 
shouted something to the man at the bow, and the 
fellow made a bound aboard and energetically shoved 


INTO SLAVERY. 


35 


off. The boat slipped bobbing out into the water, 
and another word from the leader brought two oars 
into the rowlocks. 

“ What is it ? ” asked Captain Woods, coolly. 
“Are those people mad with us?” 

“Yes,” said the Turk, with a vexed look. “They 
seem to be almost furious over you. We shall have 
to wait a minute, till my chief can quiet them.” 

By “quieting,” it seemed that the pirate meant 
some hearty kicks and cuffs, followed by a rush that 
threw those in the first lines bodily back. A little 
thumping then, with the butt-ends of muskets, and 
the quay was entirely cleared. 

“ Now we will try it again,” said the Turk, with a 
sign to the two oarsmen. 

The boat’s nose was once more brought to the 
stones, and, without further trouble, the prisoners, 
and then the guard, disembarked. The old Moor 
and his men then made a fresh diversion by crowding 
suddenly upon the rabble, and the Turk took advan- 
tage of it, and led the company quickly along by the 
quay walk. 

“ I should like to ask,” said Captain Woods, as 
they were thus comparatively safe again, “ why these 
people are so bitter against us. I didn’t suppose 
they carried their hatred of Christians to such a 
point.” 

“It isn’t their hatred of Christians, but their hatred 
of Yankees that they are showing,” answered the 
Turk, with a rather grim look. “They go too far,” 
he went on, “ but still they have considerable excuse.” 


36 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


The captain looked the surprise that he evidently- 
felt. “ Is it so ? ” he said, after a moment. “ I 
wasn’t aware of it. I knew that we were having 
some trouble with Tripoli, but I didn’t suppose that 
it had brought about a state of things like this.” 

“You are a little behind the times, ’’’said the Turk, 
sarcastically. “ It has now been six months since 
one of your war-ships fired on a fleet of our gun- 
boats, and killed several of the crew. My master, 
the bashaw, tried to get satisfaction, but none was 
to be had. From that your people have gone on, 
and your President has sent a fleet into these waters. 
Now we learn that there is talk of making outright 
war on us. We are ready, if it comes, as you will 
find, but the blame is none the less on your govern- 
ment’s shoulders. You Yankees are always fussing 
about something, and trying to upset old laws and 
customs, and now you have gone a little too far and 
have got yourselves into trouble.” 

The captain was not expecting to hear that things 
had gone to this point, although he did know that 
there had been a little fighting, including the affair 
of the gunboats. He could hardly help showing 
his pleasure that an American fleet was assembling 
in the vicinity, and took advantage of his position in 
the line to exchange a meaning glance with Paul, 

“ Oh, well, all that makes some difference, of 
course,” he then answered ; “ although I still think 
that your master and the rest of you are wrong. 
The whole thing grows out of your trying to make 
us pay tribute, which you’ve no business to do. But 


INTO SLAVERY. 


37 


I acknowledge that the situation does affect your 
taking my ship, for that would be justified by a state 
of war. I only wish I had known things had gone 
quite so far. I wouldn’t have kept such a southerly 
course, or else I would have waited for a convoy.” 

“ As you didn’t do either of these things, my 
master will have the pleasure of knowing you,” said 
the Turk, with an ironical smile. “ But come, we 
had best walk a little faster, for some of that hot- 
headed crowd may strike through by one of the 
upper streets and head us off. I want to get rid of 
further trouble if I can.” 

The whole company therefore struck out at a 
brisker gait, and in a short time were past the 
streets in question and reached the entrance to one 
of the outer courts leading to the castle itself. 
Here they found two guards, and were passed in 
after a short explanation. The sort of little space 
in which the party now stood was surrounded on 
the outer side by a high and massive wall and other- 
wise by the towering, mediaeval-looking buildings of 
the castle itself. A strong wooden gate, at the 
moment standing open, led into a kind of hall, or 
vestibule, and just within this were stationed two 
more guards. A torch, or some dim light, was 
fastened to the wall at a point seemingly near the 
end of the passage, and intervening was a strong 
grating, forming a second gate, and made of small 
rods of steel or iron. The men on duty, who also 
seemed in keeping with the place, were tall, sinewy, 
swarthy fellows, their features of the Arabian cast, 


38 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

and were dressed in more showy and elaborate 
fashion than the guards without. They wore green, 
baggy trousers, carried muskets and a sash-load of 
pistols and yataghans, and their head-gear was a 
pointed steel cap wound around with a long white 
cloth. 

“ My chief seems to find enough to keep him 
busy,” said the Turkish captain, as the company 
halted in the inner court ; “ and as he will wish to 
take you before our lord we must wait awhile. You 
need not stand, for I will have some seats, and you 
can smoke.” 

He turned to one of the guards and said a few 
words, and the man stepped to a little door almost 
in the shadow of the second gate, and came out with 
an armful of straw rugs. 

“Take them and make yourselves comfortable,” 
said the Turk, good-naturedly ; and he set the ex- 
ample by kicking open a large rug and squatting 
cross-legged upon it. 

All hands, including the guards, were soon ranged 
around, and the chief then produced a handsome 
jointed pipe and a pouch of tobacco, and proceeded 
to screw the pieces together and fill up. All of the 
prisoners, with the exception of Paul and Sim, were 
smokers, and nearly all were provided with the 
necessary materials. The chief got his spark, and 
obligingly passed the flint and steel along, and a 
cloud of smoke was soon rising. It was rather 
a sociable sight, and possibly somewhat of a queer 
one, though the prisoners afterward learned that 


INTO SLAVERY. 


39 


a good many things that they saw and that happened 
to them were different from what they could have 
expected. 

The old Moorish captain came at last, his look 
a little surly and some dust and sweat on his face, 
and with a few words he took charge of the party. 

“We shall have to part company now,” said the 
Turk, speaking to Captain Woods. “I think you 
haven’t found me very harsh, and you haven’t made 
me any trouble. I mean since the fight. You kept 
us all busy then. Well, I don’t exactly hate you 
Yankees, for the fact is I had a Yankee nurse, and 
she was an excellent woman, and gave me a little 
bias in your favour. The only thing is, I wish your 
President would pay his tribute and not make both 
nations so much trouble. I will give you my name, 
for something might come up that you would want 
to see me. It is Ali Hazed, and I am captain of 
the xebec Tartera. She is the craft that took you.” 

It really seemed as though the fellow was moved 
to a little kindly feeling, and Captain Woods, for 
himself and his men, heartily thanked him. He 
nodded pleasantly in response, and, after saluting the 
old Moor, called his own men and passed out of 
the gate. The old chief had been exchanging a few 
words with the captain of the watch, but now turned 
and formed up the company to enter the building. 
Two of the guards went first, then the old Moor, 
then the prisoners, and finally the rest of the guard. 

“ Now we shall pretty quick know what the imps 
are going to do with us,” whispered one of the sailors 


40 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


to Paul. “ I hope the old he-one will have a bowel 
or two of compassion.” 

“ Maybe he will,” returned Paul, hardly able to 
help smiling, notwithstanding the seriousness of the 
situation. ‘‘But anyhow,” he added, “we must be 
cool and keep a stiff upper lip.” 

At this point, the guards at the head of the com- 
pany started, and, before Paul or the man could say 
any more, they and their companions were passing 
from the pleasant light outside into the sombreness 
of the passage. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A RAY OF HOPE. 

S OMEWHAT to Paul’s surprise, they did not find a 
flight of stairs at the other end of the passage, 
but instead came to a wide door, and beyond that 
passed into a little rectangular court. It was laid 
out as a garden, the most of it being taken up by 
rows and beds of bright tropical flowers, and the 
walks bordered by carefully trimmed shrubs and low 
trees. At the opposite end of the main walk ap- 
peared a flight of three steps, and at the top a wide 
iron gate in which was a wicket. This wicket was 
opened as the two guards in advance approached it, 
and a man with one of the peculiar steel caps on 
looked out. At a word from the old leader, the gate 
was opened and the party filed through, the sol- 
dier immediately securing the entrance again behind 
them. 

They were now in a small inner court, this time 
paved with stone, and shut in on all but the fourth 
and opposite side by massive walls in which were 
mere wickets for windows. On this fourth side was 
a short flight of steps, and at the top an iron-railed 
stoop, or kind of balcony, and from this opened a 
grated iron door. A bearded negro in a white Turk- 
41 


42 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


ish costume, and with no weapon except a yataghan, 
was walking up and down at the head of the steps. 

The old Moor now sent his two guards to the rear 
of the company, and himself took the lead. He 
ascended the steps, spoke a few words to the negro, 
and was at once admitted at the door. As in the case 
of the former entrance, this door was closed as soon 
as the last man was inside. Paul now looked around 
him with increased wonder and interest, for this was 
an interior part of the castle proper, and was different 
from anything he had before seen. The place was, 
in effect, a large vestibule. It was tiled with black 
marble, the walls were high, and on three sides were 
of some dark, handsome wood, highly polished, and 
the fourth side broke into a wide arch filled in by a 
yellow silk and lace curtain. 

The leader now took hold of this curtain and shook 
it slightly, and instantly a tall fellow, armed with a 
yataghan and spear, looked out. 

The chief said a few words, — as in the former 
instances, the Americans did not understand them, — 
and the man drew the curtain aside. 

First bowing profoundly, the old leader passed 
slowly in, and the captives and then the Moorish 
guard followed. They had reached at last the pene- 
tralia of the place, and were in the presence of the 
bashaw. 

Paul had the quick, keen eyes of youth, and he ran 
his glance curiously, and not without a little awe, over 
this first royal personage that he had ever seen. The 
bashaw was a smallish, spare, swarthy man, in general 


A RAY OF HOPE. 


43 


appearance not past middle age, and was lolling on 
some cushions piled on a little dais. He was dressed 
in a long white robe, of some light material, and wore 
on his head a white turban, in the front of which was 
set a small crescent of diamonds. About his waist 
was a yellow silk sash, but it supported no weapons, 
and the only insignia of his rank — unless it might 
be the crescent of diamonds — was a long wand, or 
cane, that lay within reach of his hand. It was 
black, like ebony, and was headed with a small gold 
ball. 

On his right hand, on the dais, stood two men, 
both past middle age, and both richly but not 
showily dressed, and at a respectful distance on his 
left was a tall, half-naked negro. This man was 
powerfully built, and wore in his leather belt a pistol 
and a heavy yataghan. 

The room itself — or, in fact, it should be called a 
hall — was lofty and spacious, and was supported, 
as well as ornamented, by several black marble pil- 
lars, and was adorned with rich hangings and carved 
work. Around the upper walls was a kind of 
coloured panelling, the divisions being in geometrical 
figures, according to the Moorish style. 

By the time that Paul had completed these ob- 
servations the old Moor had advanced to the dais, 
and, after making a low obeisance, stood with his 
hands crossed on his breast, waiting for permission 
to speak. 

The bashaw had raised himself a bit from his 
cushions as the company entered, but either felt, or 


44 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


affected to feel, no great curiosity or interest, and 
now, as the old commander finished his salaams, he 
merely made a languid sign for him to speak. What 
the old corsair went on to say, of course neither 
Paul nor his companions could tell. It was all in 
Arabic, or what they understood to be such, and was 
delivered in ceremonious and deliberate fashion. 
The bashaw seemed fo rouse a little, after a time, 
and condescended to ask several questions, and Paul 
thought that he finally grew rather interested. He 
certainly spoke with more animation, and at least 
once or twice he glanced questioningly or curiously 
at the captives. At last he seemed to be satisfied, 
and then the old Moor salaamed obsequiously again, 
and the potentate lounged back lazily once more 
upon his cushions. 

Paul began to wonder what was to happen now, 
and guessed that their fate, whatever it might be, 
was decided, but at this juncture the old Moor began 
a wab-like retreat, and as soon as he reached the 
prisoners made a sign that they were to fall back 
toward the door. They did so, following his ex- 
ample of keeping their faces toward his Mightiness, 
for they wanted to avoid needless offence, and in this 
way they finally brought up at the entrance. Till 
this time Paul had supposed that perhaps they were 
to be taken out of the old Moor’s custody and turned 
over to some royal officer, but now he saw that this 
was not to be the case. The old commander mo- 
tioned them through the door, backed after them, 
and, as soon as he was out, led them down by the 


A RAY OF HOPE. 


45 


way they had come, and into the outer court. Here 
he halted them, and spoke a few words to one of 
his men, who started at a run out of the gate. He 
was gone some twenty minutes, and when he re- 
turned brought with him a small, keen-eyed man, 
who wore a European felt hat and low shoes, but 
Tripolitan jacket, tunic, and trousers. He was about 
swarthy enough to be a Moor, or at least a half-breed, 
but his eyes were gray, and his hair was a dark red. 
Not very much to the captives’ surprise, he came to 
act as an interpreter. 

“ They want me to ask you whether any of you 
know a trade,” he began, without preface. He spoke 
plain, ordinary English, with what seemed a New 
England accent. 

“Jim Hunt, here, has done something at carpen- 
tering,” Captain Woods spoke for the party and 
answered. “The others have always followed the 
sea.” 

The man took a note-book and a pencil from his 
pocket and apparently wrote down Hunt’s name. 
“ You were the captain of the ves’l ? ” he then said, 
questioningly. 

“Yes,” answered the captain. 

“ What is your name ? ” 

“William Woods.” 

“ Where do you hail from ? ” 

“ Philadelphia.” 

“ Who is this young man ? ” 

“My son, Paul Woods.” 

“Give me the names of the others.” 


46 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“John Gardner, Milton Brown, and Simeon Burton. 
The boy is Burton.” 

“ The name of your vessel is — ? ” 

“The Cynthia Roche. She is loaded with planed 
short lumber, trunks, cheap jewelry, and notions. 
Her destination was Alexandria.” 

“ What money was there aboard ? ” The man 
asked this question with an appearance of greater 
interest than he had shown before. Paul thought 
he knew why, for he could guess that this was a 
way of finding out whether the corsair commander 
of the xebec had returned a correct account of the 
spoil. 

“ I had five hundred and sixteen dollars locked in 
an iron box in a drawer in my berth, and have three 
or four dollars about me,” answered the captain, with 
a little sigh. 

The man wrote the figures carefully down. 

“ I take it that these men and the boy have no 
money and no friends able to ransom them ? ” he 
next proceeded. 

“No, they and their friends have no money,” said 
the captain ; “neither have I, now,” he added, with 
another sigh. “ I have a little house, but it wouldn’t 
sell for much.” 

“ Where is this house ? ” the man wrote a little 
more, and asked. 

“ In Portsmouth, England.” 

The fellow looked a trifle surprised. 

“There ain’t very many small owners of houses in 
Portsmouth,” he said, in a doubtful tone. 


A RAY OF HOPE. 


47 


“ Have you lived in England ? ” asked the captain, 
sharply. 

The man met the keen and significant look, and 
his own glance fell. 

“ I’ve been there,” he finally said, rather sullenly. 
“That’s nothing to do with this business, though. 
I’ll put down that you claim to own the house.” 

The old captain’s lip slightly curled. 

“ Oh, much obliged,” he said, ironically. “ I should 
hate to think you wouldn’t do that, especially as I 
guess we are the same as fellow countrymen. My 
people were English.” 

The fellow scowled, and a close observer would 
have said that his face reddened a trifle under the tan. 

“That’s all,” he said, abruptly. Then, turning to 
the old Moor, he jabbered a few words of seeming 
explanation. The other nodded, and briefly motioned 
the captives back into line. 

“ Look here ! ” called out Captain Woods to the 
interpreter, as the latter put up his book and pencil, 
and was turning away. “ I want you to tell me 
something. What are they going to do with us ? 
Where are we bound, now ? ” 

The fellow half looked around, but without answer- 
ing started on. 

“ Tell the boss here, then, that we asked the ques- 
tion,” resolutely persisted the captain. 

At this the man hesitated, and finally stopped. He 
said a few words to the old commander, and the lat- 
ter, after a look at Captain Woods, returned a brief 


answer. 


48 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

“ He says you’re to go to the town prison to- 
night,” interpreted the man, “and in the morning 
all but the carpenter will be sent to the walls. He 
will be put to work at his trade. Working on the 
walls,” he added, with a little nod of satisfaction, 
“ means laying stone on the shore fortifications. It’s 
a cheerful job, with lots of sunshine.” 

He nodded at the captain, and walked away. 

“ The infernal skunk ! ” growled the old skipper, 
“ I’d like to have him aboard of a ship of mine for 
a week. I’d let him know my opinion of renegades.” 

“ I guess he must be an escaped criminal,” said 
Paul. “ I don’t believe anybody else would come 
down to such a life.” 

“ Nobody that wasn’t fit to be in prison would, of 
course,” answered his father, “but sometimes men 
— I mean things — that never did get quite inside 
of iron doors will join ’em. There’s their present 
lord high admiral, or whatever they call him, he 
came here of his own accord, and claims to be 
respectable. I’ve heard that he was a Scotchman. 
His name is Lisle.” 

This bit of side-talk had been carried on while the 
prisoners were in motion, for the old Moor had led 
them out through the gate, and up one of the narrow, 
walled-in streets. The captain judged that they would 
not be allowed to carry on any considerable conversa- 
tion, and, as he did not wish to irritate the old Moor, 
he ended his remarks at this point, and the little 
company moved on in silence. 

Paul had been about to ask his father what he 


A RAY OF HOPE. 


49 


thought of their prospects of getting unmolested to 
the prison, for he had not forgotten the mob, but 
just here he was reassured, as a company of at least 
twenty uniformed musketeers turned the corner of 
the next house and formed about them. The precau- 
tion, however, did not seem to be required, for the 
knots of people that they soon began to meet made 
no attempt at violence, and none went further than a 
few savage or revengeful cries. The town prison 
proved to be a low but large and strong building, and 
was defended at the main gate by two armed guards. 
The captain and his party were quickly led through 
the strong outer gateway, and from there crossed a 
stone-paved yard and entered a little square tower, 
where an official that seemed to be the jailer made 
some entries in a large, wooden- covered book. He 
then gave the old Moor what was probably a receipt 
for the prisoners, and the old man and his guard took 
their leave. The jailer thereupon called four armed 
attendants, and signed for the captives to follow him. 
He led them along a high-walled, but open passage, 
to a larger building, and from a little circular court 
in the middle turned into one of the several radiating 
passages, and finally stopped before a narrow iron 
door. This he unlocked, and signed them to pass in, 
which they did, and were rather surprised to find 
themselves in a room strewn with clean straw, but 
without other furnishings and minus windows. They 
afterward discovered that the room was dimly lighted 
by two small gratings in the floor overhead, but at 
this time of day, and on coming out of a stronger 


50 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


light, these were not apparent. The place smelled 
close and rather musty, but was fairly cool, and 
without comment they entered, and the door was 
locked behind them. 

At least, this was a little relief from the strain of 
the past few hours, and with a word or two they 
mounded up some of the straw and sat down. They 
soon got their bearings a little, and began to feel 
more cheerful, and before long discovered that they 
had an appetite for supper. This, however, was not 
immediately forthcoming, and they passed the next 
half-hour in their usual speculations and conjectures. 
In spite of the renegade’s dispiriting announcement, 
they did not lose heart, for the captain was still 
plucky and hopeful, and persisted that they could not 
yet know that their lot was to be very hard, and that 
it was nonsense to worry about it till they did. It is 
surprising how well the brave old man succeeded 
in keeping all hands up to his own pitch. Even Paul, 
though naturally more steadfast of purpose, as well 
as more intelligent than the sailors or the boy, would 
have faltered a little but for his father’s undaunted 
bearing. One thing that interested them a little, 
and helped to pass the time, was an attempt that they 
made to find out whether they had any near fellow 
prisoners. They listened, and were easily able to 
catch some faint, far-off sounds, which might have 
been shouts or high-pitched songs, but nothing nearer 
or more distinct. At last the monotony was broken, 
and this time in the way they desired, for footsteps 
were heard at the door, and in a moment it was un- 


A RAY OF HOPE. 


51 


locked, and admitted a negro with a small tray. He 
was lighted and guarded by a swarthy, turbaned 
fellow, who remained in the door holding up a lan- 
tern, and carrying in his other hand a pistol. The 
negro put down his tray and unloaded it of a stone 
jar of water, the amount of a pint bowlful of raisins, 
and six small loaves of bread. 

The old captain was prepared for such light fare, 
but not the others, and there were some looks of 
disgust and disappointment. Still, not a word was 
said, for all hands knew that it would be to no effect, 
and so the provisions were picked up and divided, 
and the negro received back his tray and with his 
companion retired. 

“ Oh, well, a man won’t starve on this,” said Paul, 
pluckily, after the two had gone and the sailors had 
grumbled a little. “ Probably you, Jim, have seen 
worse in the fo’c’s’le.” 

“ Yes, that I have,” said Jim, with a reminiscent 
nod. “ I sailed with a skipper once — old Wash 
Otis — that give us nothin’ ’tall for supper but bread 
and water.” 

“ I got along for twelve days once on a poodle dog 
and two quarts of warm water,” said John Gardner. 
“ I was cast away, though, so I can’t lay it on to my 
skipper.” 

“ Did you have to eat the dog raw ? ” inquired Sim 
Barton. 

“Yes, Simmy,” answered the sailor, “and he 
didn’t ’tall agree with me. I’ve heard since that 
poodles are apt to be sickly, and perhaps that — 


52 


A, TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


Say,” he broke off suddenly, “ do any of you hear 
that noise ? ” 

“ I was noticing it,” said Paul. “You mean like 
guns ? It’s faint, but sort of regular. Maybe it is 
a sort of night salute, or something of that kind. 
Could it be that, father ? ” 

“ I don’t believe it could,” answered the captain. 
“ It is too late for ordinary evening salutes, and — 
there it is again.” 

They all listened, and this time, seemingly a trifle 
plainer than before, they heard the far-off, deep-toned 
reports. 

“ Boys,” exclaimed the old skipper, and they heard 
the straw rustle where he was, as though he had 
sharply started up. “ I don’t want to piasthead your 
hopes, lest they should come tumbling down again, 
but I am going to guess what that banging means. 
I think we are hearing American guns.” 

There was a kind of round of deep breaths from 
the hearers, and then an instant of silence. 

“ What makes you think so, sir ? ” then spoke up 
Milton Brown. The man’s powerful voice jarred 
with excitement. 

“Why, you know what Ali What’s-his-Name 
said ? ” answered Captain Woods. “ He told us that 
there was an American fleet in these waters, by 
which he meant this very coast, as I take it ; and he 
said that the trouble we’d been having with Tripoli 
was likely to end in actual war. Now I don’t sup- 
pose we’ve got ships enough around here to take the 
town, but I do rather guess we’ve begun to make a 


A RAY OF HOPE. 


53 


demonstration, and that it’s likely to lead to more. I 
did think that Ali might be stretching his story a 
little, so as to sort of excuse his doings, but now I’m 
inclined to believe he wasn’t.” 

“ Oh, father, I do hope it’s true ! ” Paul burst out. 
“ If only we could get away and help fight ! ” 

“ Maybe we can,” spoke up Milton Brown. “ Let’s 
keep our weather eye peeled. Anyway, I feel pretty 
good. Say, let’s have three cheers for the old stars 
and stripes ! ” 

The whole six were on their feet with a jump, and 
with a wild, startling sound in that black, gloomy 
place, the cheers were given. 

“ There ! wonder if any of ’em heard that, and if 
they did, if they were pleased with it,” chuckled the 
old captain. “ Shouldn’t wonder if they heard more 
of the same kind of noise before they are through.” 

The others laughed exultantly, and little Sim 
added a good imitation of the crowing of a rooster. 

This strange noise made them laugh in another 
way, and after a few moments they got partly down 
from their high pitch. They were a long time in 
steadying their nerves enough to go to sleep, how- 
ever, and even after they had stopped talking, one 
or another would sigh excitedly, or turn restlessly on 
his straw. At intervals, for an hour after they heard 
the first gun, an occasional deep rumble reached 
them, and it did now really seem as though active 
work in the long-talked-of war had begun. 


CHAPTER V. 


WEARY DAYS. 


HE little company slept pretty well, considering 



J- their surroundings and what was on their minds. 
It was after six before they were all awake, and this 
gave them considerably over five hours of rest. Of 
course they were eager to hear about the firing of 
the night before, and had their ears pricked open 
for the footsteps of the man who should bring their 
breakfast. Captain Woods thought that they could 
make signs which he would understand, and that he 
would be willing to tell what he knew. After a time 
the man came, the guard attending him, as before. 
He ran the prisoners over with his eyes, as though 
to make sure that they were all there, and then set 
down a tray with their breakfast, after which he 
turned as though to go. 

“ Here’s for our news,” said the captain. “ Ahoy, 
there, my friend ! Just a word with you ! ” 

The fellow evidently understood the sense of the 
captain’s hail, and with a look of some surprise 
pulled up. 

Then began a funny performance, which those who 
witnessed it afterward laughed about, though they 
were more anxious than amused at the time. The 


54 


WEARY DAYS. 


55 


captain first pointed in the direction that he believed 
the harbour to lie, and said, distinctly : “Gun ? bang ! 
bang /” making his imitation noise loud and heavy; 
then he assumed a look of inquiry. 

The negro watched him attentively, but after a 
moment’s struggle with the idea was evidently unable 
to get at it and turned to the guard. The latter had 
also watched the captain closely, but as he was thus 
appealed to he seemed as puzzled as his companion, 
and at first shook his head. The captain hesitated 
for a moment, trying to think how better to explain 
his meaning, when just then his eye fell on the 
guard’s pistol. Advancing and pointing to it he went 
through the motions of touching off a cannon, and 
then said once more, loudly, “ Bang ! ” The fellow’s 
heavy face lighted at this, and with a glimmer of a 
smile he seemed to make an effort and brought out 
the word, “ Shoot.” 

“Ay, ay,” cried the captain, exultantly, “That’s it ; 
shoot. Now make the second great effort of your 
life and tell me who shot. Let me see, — can’t I 
make clearer ? — Americans ? Americans ? ” he cried, 
loudly and distinctly. 

The fellow nodded emphatically. 

“ Good ! ” broke out Paul, too greatly relieved to 
keep in longer. 

“ God bless every man Jack of ’em ! ” murmured 
Milton Brown from his deep chest. 

“ Amen ! ” joined in the other three. 

“ I suppose that is all we can find out now,” said 
the captain, after an inquiring look at them. 


56 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


This seemed to be the case, and the two men under- 
stood his satisfied nod and withdrew. The rest of the 
day passed quietly and without startling events. There 
was no more cannonading, and, to judge by the faces 
of the two keepers, nothing very surprising happened. 
The next day the monotony of the situation was 
broken, for they were taken from the cell and given 
a little march around the inner court. This, they 
took it, was not so much out of kindness as from 
policy, their health being a matter of consequence to 
their captors. Toward the close of the day they 
were taken out again, and this time it appeared that 
their confinement as mere prisoners was over, for 
they were brought before the governor or commander 
of the prison, and, after some more entries in a book 
and a passing of receipts, were turned over to a man 
who proved to be the master of all the royal slaves. 
This fellow was tall, spare, muscular, and by his look 
was an Arab. He was dressed in a white turban, 
long blouse, and baggy trousers, and wore on his feet 
a pair of English top-boots. He wore in his turban 
a short red feather, apparently as a sign of authority. 
He was armed with two handsome yataghans, one 
long enough to serve the purposes of a sword, and 
the other much shorter, and wore in his sash a 
silver-mounted pistol. 

As soon as the preliminaries were settled, he 
called in his own guard, which proved to be com- 
posed of six swarthy fellows, and took the prisoners 
— or slaves, as perhaps they should now be called — 
at once to the place where they were to make their 


WEARY DAYS. 


57 


future headquarters. This time the few people that 
seemed to notice them expressed no particular malice, 
and appeared to be content to leave them to their 
new and unenviable lot, and in this quiet way they 
reached the sort of barracks where they were to be 
quartered, and were turned over to the man who had 
the immediate charge of the group of royal labourers. 
Here Jim Hunt, because he had some knowledge of 
carpentering, was separated from the others, and sent 
away to work on a job in that line. As nearly as they 
could find out from the overseer, — who spoke a little 
English, — he would be employed in repairing one of 
the bashaw’s stables. All hands were just before this 
searched, their money and small pocket-effects taken 
away, and an iron ring fitted about their right ankles. 
This ring was furnished with a smaller ring, by which 
they could be tied or chained. They found their 
quarters dirty and infested with fleas, and their sup- 
per was of the same light materials as the former 
meals, but they made no comment, and took posses- 
sion of the quarters, and ate the supper with their 
usual undisturbed air. In the morning the overseer 
had them brought out and took them to a kind of 
shed, where they found a barber, and were told that 
they must have their hair cut and give up their coats 
and waistcoats. The hair-cutting was mainly to make 
it easier to identify them if they should try to escape, 
but was partly for their health, that they might be 
cooler and have less trouble with vermin, while 
the coats and waistcoats were the perquisites (as 
it seemed) of the overseer. But they offered no 


58 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


remonstrance, though the barbering gave them an 
odd and rather grotesque appearance, judged by the 
fashion of that day. As for the garments, they 
would at present have little use for them. 

The overseer, finding them tractable, and even 
cheerful (for they still had the Yankee war-ships in 
mind), at this point modified his first rather harsh air, 
and condescended to give them a little information. 
He told them that they would not find the work so 
very hard, and that the age of the captain and the 
youth of Sim would be taken into account. In fact, 
the boy would have little to do beyond fetching 
water for the workmen to drink. Finding that the 
man was willing to talk to this extent, the captain 
tried him a little further, and asked about the Amer- 
ican fleet. At first the fellow seemed displeased, 
and did not immediately answer, but finally he said 
that a few American ships had come, and were 
cruising about outside the harbour, but that they 
could do the town and the ships in port no harm, 
and that his master, the bashaw, was not seriously 
heeding them. 

“What did the firing of two nights before mean ? ” 
the captain then asked. He had easily detected the 
insincerity and bombast in the overseer’s talk, and 
had formed his conclusions accordingly. 

“Oh, the Yankees had fired at a few of his 
Excellency’s gunboats, as they went out to scout 
a little,” the man said, and after that they had 
chased and, he believed, captured a few grain boats. 
Beyond that, the firing was from some of the gun- 


WEARY DAYS. 


59 


boats in return, and from a schooner belonging to 
his Excellency that had gone to help the smaller 
vessels. All the fighting craft, he explained, had 
got safely back, and merely the grain boats were 
taken. 

Could the overseer say who commanded the 
American fleet, the captain then asked. He had 
received the man’s answers with an unmoved coun- 
tenance, and seemed to credit all that he said. 

Well, yes, it happened that the overseer could answer 
this question. The first American vessels — it was a 
joke to speak of them as a fleet — were commanded 
by one Morris. The overseer believed he was in rank 
a captain. 

“ Well, thank you for your information,” said Cap- 
tain Woods, with a polite gesture. “ I have heard of 
Captain Morris, and I rather think your master will, 
sooner or later, find him troublesome.” 

The overseer frowned, but perhaps did not fully 
catch the sense of the remark, though he doubtless 
understood that it was different in purport from 
the preceding ones, and as the hair-cutting was now 
over he told them to follow him, and led them into 
the street. He did not call a guard, as their former 
custodians had, but seemed to think that they now 
understood their position sufficiently well not to try 
to escape, and, as soon as they were outside the 
building, he started off and led them to the main 
quay, and from there to the place on the walls where 
they were to work. Of course, the moment they 
caught sight of the water they looked eagerly for the 


6o 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


fleet, and they all felt a little thrill as they saw, just 
off the opening of the harbour, five or six gleaming 
white sails. 

They exchanged glances, and their eyes sparkled, 
but it was hardly politic to speak, and so they kept 
quietly on till they 'reached their destination, and 
then tractably stood by and awaited orders. 

There were thirty or forty other slaves already on 
the spot, and the work for the day was just begin- 
ning. Captain Woods and his party had previously 
seen a number of these fellow unfortunates, and 
though there was a rule to the contrary, had managed 
to exchange a few words with some of them, but they 
did not recognise any of the faces now. There were 
no Americans or Englishmen in the company, the 
most being Spaniards, Italians, French, and Portu- 
guese. The latter were the most numerous, and 
seemed to be treated more harshly than the others. 
This the party afterward learned was because Portugal 
had been unwilling to submit to such impositions as 
some of the other European powers had, and in all 
had given the bashaw a good deal of trouble. The 
Americans could guess from this, as well as from 
what they had already seen, what their treatment 
would be likely to be if the present trouble with the 
bashaw continued. 

Captain Woods and his party were now put to 
work. They were expected to help handle the heavy 
blocks of stone, especially to swing and direct them 
as they were raised and lowered by the derricks, and 
at times one or two might be detailed as “ helpers ” 


WEARY DAYS. 


6 


for the masons who were setting the blocks. The 
scene of these labours was the southerly part of the 
stone quay that here stretched along the water-front 
of the city. At this point some of the huge blocks 
had settled, and several others seemed to be spreading 
apart, as though affected by the giving way of the 
foundation-stones. The really trying thing in the 
situation, the Americans thought, must be the ex- 
posure to the fierce sun. This would shortly beat 
down as only the sun in those parallels can, and there 
would be nothing on that bald and exposed spot to 
fend it off. It proved so. They sweat like rain, and 
their eyes were almost blinded by the glare on the 
white stones. Now they understood why nearly all 
the older slaves were bent and feeble, and why several 
of them seemed to be nearly blind. 

“We must favour ourselves,” said the old captain, 
at the noon rest, as he sat beside Paul ; “ if we don’t 
we shall give out. I have been trying a little scheme, 
which is to make a show of taking hold, but really to 
do as little as possible. I jump as spry as the others, 
but don’t put on much steam. Then about our eyes. 
At this rate we shall soon be as good as blind. I 
notice that the biggest part of the old crew are half 
blind. Now I have been nearly shutting my eyes, 
just leaving a glimmer to guide me, and find it works 
well. Try it and try the other. I will talk to the 
boys.” 

The whole company had been taken to the shade 
of a large warehouse, where they were allowed to 
group themselves as they pleased. The captain saw 


62 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


and talked with the rest of the party, and they agreed 
to try his plan. The nooning was allowed to run to 
an hour and a half, and it was still an hour to sun- 
down when the work was finally suspended, but it 
was a long day for the poor Americans. Still the 
old captain kept up his encouraging talk, and re- 
minded them of the sails in the offing. The fleas 
and other vermin bothered them when at last they 
tried to sleep, but in spite of all they finally dropped 
off. The next morning they found themselves a little 
the worse for the previous day’s experience (Captain 
Woods’s hands, in particular, as he had not of late 
done much hard work, were sore), but they put the 
best side out, and turned to at the call. That day 
the captain had a bit of luck, for he was called off 
from the stone-handling and set to mixing cement. 

Afterward he was ordered to lend a hand when 
necessary at the work of a small derrick, both jobs 
being vastly easier than the first work. The follow- 
ing day he was set at stone-handling again, but the 
next he was once more given lighter work, and after 
that he was not set continuously at his first job. The 
others, meanwhile, had taken his advice and favoured 
themselves, and were beginning to revive a little in 
strength and courage. All the while they had not 
seen anything of Jim Hunt, but once they had heard 
from him, and found that he was doing fairly well. 
His work, it seemed, was not nearly so hard and 
wearing as theirs. In this way a number of weeks 
went by. The American ships were still generally 
visible, though at times they could not be made out, 


WEARY DAYS. 


63 


and seemed to be adopting some kind of watching 
tactics. No Tripolitan vessels were known to leave 
the port, though the party could not learn whether it 
was because the harbour was so nearly blockaded, or 
whether they did not care to run even a slight risk. 
They understood it to be also the fact that no more 
vessels had entered the port. One day they learned 
a bit of news, which was that the waiting ships had 
chased and finally destroyed a Tripolitan cruiser. 
She was run down, it seemed, in a bay about eighteen 
miles from the city. A little later came the news 
that one of the Yankee vessels — they afterward 
learned that she was the Philadelphia — had taken 
an armed craft belonging to one of the other Barbary 
powers, and had recaptured an American brig. Such 
news, of course, cheered the little company of Yankees, 
but it brought scowls and threats of harsh treatment 
from their masters. Luckily, none of these threats 
were carried out. The gangs of slayes, as they 
worked, were occasionally visited by one or another 
of the officers of the court, but only for a hasty look- 
ing over. The Americans afterward learned that 
this brief and perfunctory kind of call came about 
in consequence of the fear of the turban ed dignitaries 
that they should carry away with them some of the 
free creatures about the place ; in other words, lice and 
fleas. The work on the quay came to an end after 
awhile, and then Captain Woods and his company — 
they were still allowed to form a little gang by them- 
selves — were transferred to the city walls, and were 
there set to strengthening the weak places. This 


64 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


was easier work than that on the quay, and at times 
was broken by short rests. All the while nothing 
further had been said to the captain about ransom, 
and he said nothing in turn. He still believed that 
deliverance might be near, and, if not, could not see 
how he was to satisfy such a demand as he had now 
discovered would doubtless be made. But at last 
something happened that no one was looking for, 
and this ultimately opened the way to the desired 
end. Up to this time, as it should be explained, no 
feasible way of escape had opened. The captain and 
all the rest thought hard, but could devise no practi- 
cable plan. Since the coming of the American ships, 
the water had been closely watched, and a patrol of a 
gunboat or two was always moving about the harbour. 
To be sure, there was a chance by land, that is, as 
far as getting out of the city was concerned, for the 
watch at the southern gates was not so very strict, 
and it was possible for a person from the inside to 
scale the walls ; but after this beginning was made 
there was nothing else that held out the least encour- 
agement. To linger near the city was to make sure 
of recapture, and to penetrate into the country was 
to risk many kinds of dangers. There were robbers, 
wild animals, and, worst of all, the mountain Moors. 
To fall into their hands was to jump from the frying- 
pan into the fire. They were harsher with their 
slaves than the Tripolitans, and rarely permitted 
them to communicate with their friends, or offered 
them for ransom. It was evidently much wiser to 
hold on as they were and wait jor a turn of events, 


WEARY DAYS. 


65 


or some promising opportunity. With this conclu- 
sion reached, the captain and the others controlled 
their impatience, and the time wore away till the 
matter happened that has been mentioned. The 
summer and early fall had by this time gone, and it 
was October. 

One morning, little Sim came along to the party 
where they were still working on the walls, and, while 
feigning to pass the captain a drink of water, told 
him hurriedly that he had just learned some news. 

“ The frigate Philadelphia is aground,” he said, 
“and old Lisle has just sent a lot of gunboats to 
take her.” 

“ What ! Where is she aground ? ” inquired the 
captain, anxiously. 

“ On some shoals a few miles east of the harbour. 
She was chasing a xebec and ran on.” 

“ Can’t our vessels help her, or, at least, can’t they 
take off the people ? ” asked the captain, in a still 
more troubled tone. By this time Paul and the 
others had suspended their work to listen. 

“Guess they ain’t ’round,” answered the boy. 
“You see we can’t get a glimpse of any of ’em 
from here, and I couldn’t from the other wall. 
Mebby they’re cruisin’ a little to the west’ard, 
and if they be they can’t see the ship.” 

“And if they heard firing they wouldn’t at first 
think anything was wrong,” said the captain, with a 
sigh. “ Well, you’d better be moving. The overseer 
is looking this way.” 

The day wore on, and by and by they heard the 


66 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


report of distant guns. Evening came, and with it 
further news. The gunboats had taken the disabled 
frigate, and were bringing the officers and crew to 
the city. It seemed that Captain Bainbridge, who 
commanded the ship, had done everything in his 
power to get out of the difficulty, but the wind and 
sea continued to carry the vessel higher and higher 
on the rocks, and at last she struck fast and heeled 
over. Her guns were now out of bearing, and, as 
nothing more could be done, the captain bored holes 
in the bottom of the ship, threw his guns overboard, 
and finally struck. This sad piece of news was 
brought to the slave quarters by Sim, who was 
allowed considerable latitude in running about the 
streets, and who had just come from the mole. “ I 
got the news from the scalawag in the top-boots, — 
the fellow that didn’t like your question about Eng- 
land,” Sim said, nodding at the captain. “ He was so 
tickled over the poor ship’s plight that he was willin’ 
to confab.” 

“ The miserable scamp ! ” growled the captain. 
“Well,” he went on, more calmly, “I suppose we 
must face the news, since it is true. It will make 
the bashaw harder to humble than ever, and I suppose 
put ransom up out of sight.” 

“Father,” spoke up Paul, as though suddenly 
struck by a thought, “can’t we make this affair 
help us ? There’ll surely be high jinks in the city 
to-night, and can’t we watch our chance and make a 
break ? Say we could steal a boat ? ” 

“ I’m afraid we couldn’t do it,” said the captain, 


WEARY DAYS. 67 

shaking his head. “ They won’t forget to keep a 
sharp lookout.” 

“Anyway, I’d like to see what could be done,” 
persisted Paul, with a rising eagerness in his tones. 
“ Will you let me try ? ” 

“ What is your idea ? It ought to have a good 
show to succeed to make it pay to risk it,” answered 
the captain, after a moment’s thought. 

“ Hitch a little nearer, so it won’t be noticed that 
we are talking,” said Paul. “That will do.” 

He rapidly, and yet comprehensively, explained 
his plan. 

“Well, perhaps it may do,” said the captain, after 
a little reflection. “ You may try it if you want to.” 

Paul merely nodded and remained where he was 
for a moment. Then he deliberately, and with an 
unconcerned air, got up and walked out of the door. 
There was a guard in the little vestibule, but the 
young man had his plans ready for dealing with him. 
The three sailors and Sim, as Paul walked out, looked 
inquiringly at the captain, but he merely shook his 
head. They took the hint, and lazily turned over 
and pretended to go to sleep. There was no telling 
whether any of the other slaves could be trusted, and 
prudence demanded that the risk of trying it should 
not be run. There were now a few Americans among 
the gangs, sent here after finishing other jobs, or 
from private houses, but it was too risky to try to 
include them in the present undertaking. After a few 
minutes, the old captain turned upon his other side, 
and, like the men, appeared to have dropped asleep. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 

M EANWHILE Paul had reached the street and 
was safely past the first serious danger. A 
guard was on duty outside the door, and another was 
posted at the main gate. As Paul appeared the first 
man looked at him suspiciously, but grew indifferent 
again when he explained in broken Arabic — he had 
now learned a smattering of the tongue — that he 
wanted to go down to the water-front and see the 
ship’s company taken ashore. The man nodded and 
turned away, and Paul walked quickly across the 
court, receiving no challenge from the other guard, 
and passed through the open gateway into the street. 
Here was a lively little throng, nearly all bound the 
same way as himself, and he joined them and kept 
on as far as the approach to the mole. The return- 
ing boats had been sighted, and in fact their bobbing 
lanterns were coming plainly out, and the crowd was 
packing more and more closely about the spot where 
they would fetch in. Paul did not stop, but, with a 
glance around to make sure that no one was paying 
especial heed to him, he slipped back up the street 
by which he had come and made off in the direction 
of the bashaw’s castle. 


68 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 


69 


This was a little to the east, and was to be reached 
by two or three of the narrow streets, the whole 
structure standing outside the main city wall. He 
passed through the open gate, — as a rule none of 
the gates on the water side were shut or guarded till 
after midnight, — and kept on till he reached the 
rear of the castle. Near by, in the castle wall, was 
a kind of postern-gate, and outside of it a long, low, 
wooden structure filling in the space almost to the 
city wall. The building was new, and was, in fact, 
a large stable where the bashaw was planning to put 
the overflow from his growing stud of horses. Paul 
knew just what to do now, and went around to the 
rear of the stable and rather loudly coughed. After 
a few seconds a man showed his head at a little loft 
door. 

“That you, Jim ?” said Paul, in a guarded voice. 

“ Yes,” answered the man, as he spoke quickly 
putting his head entirely outside. “ What’s up ? ” 

Paul merely made a beckoning sign. 

Jim disappeared and in a moment came softly out 
at a rear door. 

“ We’re going to try to get away,” said Paul in a 
whisper, as the sailor joined him. “ There’s nobody 
around here to see us, .is there ? ” 

“ No. The stable is outside the castle wall, so 
they’re not very particular. They let me sleep in 
the loft, on the straw, as I asked the favour. What’s 
your plan ? ” 

Everybody will be crazy over the capture of the 
Philadelphia , and I thought that perhaps we could 


7 o 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


steal a boat and get out to the fleet. You have had 
more liberty than the rest of us and you ought to be 
able to tell something about it. What do you think ? ” 
“ I don’t know where we can get any boat,” said 
the sailor, after a moment’s reflection. “ You know 
the imps look after that, understanding what we 
might be up to. I think that everything bigger than 
a skiff is locked, and there’s a guard along the whole 
water-front. Still,” he added, with a flash of the 
eyes, “ if you say so we’ll make a try.” 

“ I think if we are ever going to do anything, now 
is the time,” said Paul. “You haven’t fared quite 
so hard as the rest of us, but of course you’re anx- 
ious to get away. Well, and now the first thing is 
to get the boat. The others will wait till they hear 
from me, and we two have got to do the business. 
Which way shall we look ? ” 

“ We might as well try along the quay a piece 
no’th of the castle,” answered Hunt. “It’s a kind 
of between-and-betwixt place with the guard.” 

“ All right. Come on.” 

They kept along by the city wall for a few rods, 
and then boldly turned and descended to the quay. 

As Paul had shrewdly guessed, the attention of 
nearly everybody was taken by the incoming boats, 
and only a perfunctory watch was kept. These 
boats, with their lighted lanterns and crowded decks, 
— for they had over three hundred prisoners and 
took out large crews, — were now nearly in to the 
mole, and the crowd of people assembled there began 
to shout, and the boats fired an answering salute. 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 


7 1 


This was the time for the adventurers to act, if at all. 
They went to the edge of the quay, glanced along, 
and saw several small boats. All seemed to be 
chained to rings in the stones of the quay. 

“ One of them will have to answer,” said Paul. 
“ We must be quick. I’ll try this one. You stay 
here and watch.” 

He saw that the nearest guard was a considerable 
distance off, seemingly absorbed in the spectacle at 
the mole, and with a sailor’s agility he slipped over 
the edge of the quay and into the boat. A pull 
at the ring to which the chain was fast showed that 
it was firm. This was what he expected, but he was 
not born in Yankee-land for nothing. While work- 
ing about the city wall he had found and put in his 
pocket a large iron spike. He did not know at the 
time how he should find it useful, and there might 
be a little trouble if it were found in his possession, 
but still he took it. Now it came exactly in play. 
He passed it through the ring that held the chain, 
rested the lower end on the high prow-head of the 
boat, and gave a powerful wrench. The ring percep- 
tibly started. 

“ St ! here comes the guard ! ” suddenly whispered 
Hunt. “ What do you want me to do ?” 

“ Nothing ; be looking toward the mole,” instantly 
returned Paul. 

With the words he drew the boat close to the 
stones, found a toe-hold in the chinks between them, 
and stepped out and held on. 

The guard was evidently more anxious to get back 


7 2 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


where he could see something of the affair at the 
mole than to extend his walk in the other direction. 

After a few minutes Paul heard him come back. 

“All right,” whispered down Hunt. 

“ Did he look as though he twigged anything ? ” 
Paul stopped long enough to inquire. 

“ No ; only glanced at me,” answered Hunt. 

By this time Paul was back in the boat. Another 
wrench, still more powerful than the first, brought 
the ring out. He pressed it back with force enough 
to hold the boat and got back upon the quay. 

“What will you do for oars ? ” asked Hunt. “We 
should have looked out for those first.” 

“ No ; for we had no use for them unless we got the 
boat, and if we can find them at all we can find them 
now,” answered Paul, coolly. “ Do you know where 
to look?” 

“ There might be a pair in that floatin’ boat-house,” 
said the sailor, pointing to a dark object just off the 
nearest wall of the castle. “ It would be a big risk 
tryin’ to get ’em, though,” he added. “The niggers 
will be almost all awake, and the most of ’em with 
their eyes this way.” 

“ No other show ? ” inquired Paul, with deepening 
anxiety. “ If we can’t do any better we must rip off 
some boards from your stable, or can’t we find some 
loose ones lying — ? ” 

He was interrupted by a strange and then a joyful 
look on the sailor’s face. At the same time the man 
gave a/kind of low bellow. 

“I’ll be keelhauled! Don’t say another word! 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 


7 3 


I’m the biggest fool in four States ! There’s a pair 
of oars within twenty feet of where I’ve been sleep- 
in’. My boss left ’em there a month ago, and I for- 
got all about ’em. Your say in’ stable — All right, 
now. Go get the skipper and the rest.” 

Paul drew a deep breath of satisfaction and relief. 

“That is lucky. I can now see my way out. 
That is, for the start. Go back and be ready, and 
I’ll get the others.” 

There was no time for further talk, as in a little 
while the excitement would be over, and then their 
chance would be gone. They left the quay and set 
off in their respective directions. Paul was quickly 
back at the quarters and found everything there as 
he had left it. The guards had not appeared sus- 
picious, and those of the new prisoners who had seen 
him go out had seemed to think nothing strange of 
it. Probably they supposed that he was a favourite 
with the overseer, or that he had been granted a 
special privilege. He took care now to avoid an 
appearance of nervousness, but still remembering 
that the things he had been supposed to see would 
excite his interest, he went on and told his father 
what he had done. 

“ It seems to be all right so far,” the captain 
thought a moment and remarked; “but yet one 
thing I don’t see that you’ve provided for. How 
are we to get out of here ? ” 

“Yes, I’ve thought of that,” Paul answered. “It 
wouldn’t be much of a plan if I hadn’t. We’ll all go 
boldly out, and I’ll ask the door guard to let us go 


74 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


down to the mole. I’ll tell him that we want to see 
the prisoners as they are taken through the streets. 
I think he’ll consent, but if he don’t we must see to 
him, and while I am talking with him you must edge 
around so as to be ready. If I tell him that Ali 
Hazed gave me permission to go back and get you 
and still he don’t consent, then grab him. Clap one 
hand over his mouth, and I will take him by the 
throat and get his yataghan. We shall then have 
to tie him and leave him. I’ve got some odds and 
ends of cord in my pocket, so we can fix that part 
all right. Then we will go ahead and use the same 
tactics with the outside guard.” 

“ Well, it’s quite a risk, but I’m for taking it,” un- 
hesitatingly whispered the captain. “ I’ll just explain 
the general idea to the men and we’ll heave ahead.” 

He rolled over till he was near enough to the four 
to talk to them in a whisper, and in a few words ex- 
plained the plan. They were unanimous in wanting 
to try it, and he gave the hint to Paul and all rose. 
As was to be expected, the other slaves looked at 
them in some surprise, but nothing was said, and 
they walked coolly out and closed the door. In the 
little vestibule, or guard-room, without, the watchman 
was pacing up and down, and, as before, the heavy 
door stood open. In fact, it would have been too 
warm and stived for endurance with it closed, there 
being only one small window as a further means of 
ventilation. The man halted in his walk as the rather 
numerous company appeared, and brought his musket 
to his breast. 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 


75 


“ What do you want ? ” he asked, sharply. 

Paul was the only one of the company who knew 
more than a few Arabic words, and he coolly and 
with a confident air stood forward. 

“ I want my friends to see what is going on out- 
side,” he said. “I have been to the mole and have 
come back for them. You will not object, I trust ? ” 

This was not said with anything like fluency, 
though the print may seem to imply it, but in a 
slow and stumbling way, as was to be expected from 
one who knew little of the language. As he de- 
livered himself he gesticulated and made signs, and 
with these motions took another step forward. 

The man seemed to hesitate, but finally frowned 
and shook his head. 

“No; I can’t permit it,” he answered. “You 
must go back.” 

“ But if Ali Hazed said it would be all right ? ” 
Paul entreatingly argued. “You would consent, 
then, wouldn’t you ? ” 

“ It is none of Ali Hazed’s business,” the man said, 
snappishly. “ He isn’t the governor here. No, you 
can’t go. Get back, and be quick about it ! ” 

But the quickness shown was in another direction. 
Little Sim, at a sign from the captain, suddenly 
pushed to the outer door, and at the same instant 
Paul sprang one side and then dashed at the guard. 
The fellow was not specially quick-motioned, but the 
distance that Paul was away gave him time to wheel 
and lower his gun, and in another half-second he 
would have pulled the trigger. The captain had not 


76 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


been able to work around to the position planned on, 
for the man was too far back in the corner and too 
near the wall, but as Paul made his dart he stepped 
to the right and also made a rush, and he was now 
in season to prevent the man from carrying out his 
design. There was no time for laying hold with 
hands, but with a powerful plunge he drove his hard 
right fist against the side of the Moor’s jaw. The 
fellow took a twisting step and reeled away toward 
the wall, the gun dropping from his limp hands. It 
was caught by Paul, and he himself was on the floor 
and his mouth closed with a piece of a shirt before 
he could understand what had happened. By that 
time his hands and ankles were tied, and he was 
hauled to the corner behind the door. His two 
yataghans — the long one and the short — were 
meanwhile whipped out of his girdle, and his powder- 
box and ball-pouch were taken off. 

“ Listen ! ” said Paul, lowering the muzzle of the 
gun till the helpless man was looking into it. “ If 
you try to move or raise an alarm I will come back 
and kill you. Do you understand ? ” 

The expression on the young fellow’s face was so 
stern and determined that it did not need the words 
to explain his meaning. The astonished and half- 
dazed Moor nodded. 

“The gun must not be seen,” said Paul, as they 
turned to go. “ Here, Brown, you carry it. Hold it 
behind you, and keep in the rear.” 

The yataghans also were held so that they would 
not be likely to be seen, and as everything seemed 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 


77 


to be ready they passed quietly out. Of course they 
had not forgotten that the little scuffle and the 
rather abrupt shutting of the door might have at- 
tracted the notice of the other guard, but as he had 
made no sign, though several minutes had passed, 
they concluded that he could not have taken the 
alarm. 

As they closed the door behind them, Paul stepped 
ahead, and made ready the short yataghan. He was 
not in the mood for trifling, and if the guard was not 
to be overcome in any other way, then he must be 
killed. There was a lantern in the vestibule, but 
as the outer door was shut the light of this was cut 
off, and the surroundings of the gate were thrown 
into dimness. To the surprise of Paul and all his 
companions, the guard was nowhere to be seen ! 
They did not hesitate, but there was no knowing 
just how to figure, now, and with a desperate readi- 
ness they followed Paul through the gateway, and 
looked around. The evening was not very light, 
and there were no lamps burning along the street, — 
a street mainly shut in by high walls, — but it was 
possible to see a little distance in both directions. 
Not a human figure was to be made out. 

“ What can be the matter ? ” thought Paul. “ Has 
the fellow run away ? ” 

The little party had almost stopped, and all hands 
were glancing curiously and suspiciously around. It 
seemed hardly possible that the man was not close at 
hand, and that he would not have to be reckoned 
with before they left. 


78 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“Well,” whispered the captain, after a little more 
of this staring and peering, “ he seems to have made 
sail, and I guess we’d better do the same.” 

He took a step forward, but just then Paul stopped 
him. Without a word the young man pointed to the 
top of a neighbouring tree. Near the end of a long 
limb was a dark shape that could hardly belong to 
the tree. 

“ By the great piper ! ” murmured the captain, in 
surprise, “there is the coon, sure enough! What’s 
he up there for ? Do you suppose he’s seen us ? ” 

“I guess he has,” answered Paul, after another 
look. “ See, he’s squatting close to the limb. If he 
was trying to get a glimpse of the doings at the mole, 
which is what he probably climbed up there for, he’d 
raise himself as high as he could. Now what had we 
better do ? We can’t leave him to come down and 
raise the alarm.” 

“No,” said the captain, decidedly, “ that won’t 
answer. On the other hand, I don’t see just how we 
are going to get him down. If we try to climb up 
there and take him, he will make a racket. Why he 
don’t do it now is probably because he thinks we will 
let him alone as it is, but that, if we get desperate, 
we will revenge ourselves by killing him. Very 
likely he has discovered Brown’s gun.” 

Paul rubbed his forehead with his sleeve, and 
glanced perplexedly at the dimly defined figure. 
Then he suddenly brightened. 

“ He must have left his gun down here,” he ex- 
claimed. “We can take that and the other one, and 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 79 

scare him down. He can’t hide so as to get out of 
range of both guns.” 

As Paul finished he stepped toward the tree, and 
there, truly enough, leaning against the back side of 
the trunk, was the gun. 

The others had followed him, and after a few hasty 
words of explanation Brown stepped to the other side 
of the tree, raised his gun, and covered the squatting 
Moor. Paul then put up his gun, and with an im- 
perative sign commanded the fellow to come down. 
There was a little silence. The Moor was not with- 
out pluck, and evidently hesitated. In the stillness 
the noises from the busy parts of the city came con- 
fusedly to their ears, and jarred upon their keyed-up 
nerves. But finally the sight of the two gun-barrels, 
and a sudden, imperative movement on Paul’s part, 
upset the Moor’s courage. He threw up his hand, 
and slowly and sullenly came down. The captain 
and Brown instantly pounced on him, bound and 
gagged him, and hurried him into the neighbouring 
court. A little cow-shed opened out of this, and 
they pushed him inside, and tied the door. 

“ We shall have to hurry,” said Paul, as they got 
back into the street again. “They must be about 
through with the business at the mole, and people 
may come this way.” 

They struck off at a run, taking the risk that the 
proceeding involved, and kept on till they reached 
the vicinity of the nearest wall-gate. Here they 
reduced their pace to a walk. The gate was still 
unguarded, and without interruption, and meeting 


8o 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


very few people, they passed outside, and skirted the 
wall till they came to the rear of the castle. 

“Stop here, and I’ll get Jim,” said Paul. “ Look 
in the direction of the mole, as though you were 
taken up with what is going on there.” 

He slipped away, and they squared about, and ap- 
peared to be following his advice. In an agreeably 
short time he was back, bringing Hunt with him. 
The sailor had the precious oars. 

“ Quick ! ” said Paul, with an anxious look toward 
the mole. “ They are done powwowing over the 
prisoners, and the crowd is leaving. They’ll be sure 
to notice us, now.” 

It took them but a moment to enter the boat, free 
it from the chain, push off, and get out the oars. 

“You and I will row, Jim,” Paul said. “The rest 
of you had better lie down. The fewer seen the 
better.” 

All but the two accordingly curled down out of 
sight, and Paul and the powerful sailor shipped the 
oars, and gave way. 

“ Not too fast,” the captain cautioned. “We don’t 
want to act as though we were in a hurry. That’s 
better.” 

The wind was against them, but light, and with no 
present sign of an unfavourable change. Not very 
fast, but steadily they slipped along, and by and by 
the vessels and houses began to dwindle and run 
together, and the lights grew less distinct. The boat 
was also taking a stronger dip and fall, as it began to 
get the greater power of the outside seas. At last 


A BID FOR FREEDOM. 


8l 


they rounded a long reach of rocks, and saw the dis- 
tant but plain white dot of a sail. It was doubtless 
the single ship of the fleet at present on guard. 

“ What is that ? ” exclaimed John Gardner, just as 
they had exchanged a few words of congratulation. 
He pointed in the direction of the castle. The cap- 
tain, Hunt, Gardner, and the boy had now got up 
from the bottom of the boat. “ It’s a kind of big 
barge,” the sailor went on ; “ by the beam, I should 
say one of the old crab’s double-bankers. See her? 
— just where that streak of light falls. She’s after 
us, or I’m mistaken.” 

Gardner had a remarkably keen pair of eyes, and it 
was three or four seconds more before the others 
could fully make out what he saw. Then all at once 
they did, Paul being first. In less than half a minute 
more, all hands agreed that the stranger was in chase. 

“ We mustn’t be taken if there’s any way to pre- 
vent it,” said the captain, speaking clearly and firmly. 
“ They’ll make it more of a hell for us than ever if 
they catch us. Now all stand by and do as I tell you. 
Trim the boat better. That’s good. Paul, give me 
that spike. Gardner, you help me rip off this strip.” 

He referred to a piece of the rising, — it was al- 
ready loose, — and with Gardner’s help he soon had 
it off. It would do for a rough paddle. 

“ Now, all together ! Don’t waste a stroke ! ” 

The speed of the little craft visibly increased. 
The captain used the piece of wood in a wonderfully 
skilful way, and Paul and the strong sailor made the 
oars creak with their desperate lifts. 


82 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“They are gaining. I don’t believe we can fetch 
it,” said Gardner, after a steady look back. 

“ Shut up ! We’ll do it, I say,” cried the captain, 
almost savagely. 

The creaking and splashing and the hard breathing 
of the labouring men went on. 

“ ’Vast ! ” cried the old man, suddenly. “ Paul, 
take this paddle. Hunt, come aft. Gardner, you 
and Brown take the oars.” 

The change was quickly made, and again they 
started. Paul now looked back and suddenly set 
his lips. The town boat was now distinct against 
the paling glimmer of the city lights, and was hardly 
a long musket-shot away. 

He turned, and with yet more desperate energy 
dipped in his clumsy paddle. But what was that ? 
A sickening crack, and, with a low cry, Brown was 
sitting with the loom of his oar in his hand. It 
seemed as though every other person in the boat 
was suddenly struck dumb. First Gardner silently 
let his oar catch and trail from the pins, and Paul, 
with one look behind, took his board from the water. 
The captain bowed his head for a moment, and Hunt 
and little Sim sat as though turned to stone. It had 
been a splendid effort, but it was a failure, and it only 
remained to accept the inevitable. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 


HE pursuing boat was now coming rapidly up. 



-L The lantern in the bow lifted and dipped with 
more discernible regularity, and the figures of the 
rowers began to take on outline. 

“Make the best of it,’' spoke up the captain, 
breaking at last the woful silence. “ Pretend to be 
cheerful and not to be much disappointed. It will 
take better with those fellows, and they won’t be so 
hard on us.” 

“ I’ll try, for one,” said Paul ; “ though it will 
be pretty tough work. To come so near and then 
to fail ! ” 

Gardner groaned, and the others were silent. 

“I say! ” broke out little Sim, all at once, “look 
there ! Jerusalem ! it’s another boat. She must be 
from our ship.” 

The party, even including the stout-hearted cap- 
tain, had been so overcome by the terrible disappoint- 
ment, that they had ceased to keep any watch ahead. 
As Sim’s voice came out shrill with his exclamation, 
it gave them a sharp and sudden start, and they all 
raised their heads and looked in the direction that he 
was pointing. 


84 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

It was easy to make out the boat, which was a 
large one, evidently well filled with men. The stroke 
seemed to be long and even, and there was no light 
visible. 

“She must be from the ship,” exclaimed the cap- 
tain, almost as soon as he got the first look. “ Stand 
by, all ! Get the two guns ready. Gardner, pass 
me that one ! By the great piper ! I don’t believe 
we’re dished yet ! ” 

The light boat, since the oars and paddle had been 
taken out of the water, had swung around, and now 
lay nearly broadside on. She lifted and plunged 
wildly, and, at this point, a small sea broke over her. 

“ Paul,” cried the captain again, “ fetch her up a 
little. Not dead end-on, for that will bother our 
firing ! ” 

Paul thrust in the apology for a paddle ; and, with a 
burst of nervous strength, brought the boat almost on 
her old course. 

“ ’Vast ! Keep her there ! ” sang out the captain. 
“ Hail that boat, Sim ! Put in that screech of 
yours. Now, Jim, get a bead on those rascals and 
let her go ! ” 

The sailor was a good shot, and, though breathing 
hard with excitement, brought his gun slowly to 
range, and with a seemingly steady hand, fired. 

“Well done!” cried the captain, as a sharp yell 
came from among the crowded gang in the galley. 
“ Now I’ll give ’em my compliments.” 

It was remarkable how little it took to raise this 
bold man’s spirits. Though escape still looked 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 


85 


hardly probable, he seemed to feel confident that 
it was as good as effected. He laid his cheek to 
the breech of the gun, sighted, and pulled the trigger. 

“ Hooray ! You’ve pinked one of the officers ! ” 
shouted John Gardner, who had excitedly sprung 
upon a thwart. 

It seemed so, indeed. There was confusion in the 
stern of the double-banker, and more than half of 
the crew stopped rowing. 

“ Take that oar, Gardner ! ” sang out the captain. 

Paul was sitting with poised paddle, and instantly 
drove it into the water and started the boat, 
while Gardner jumped to the oar. As the boat 
took on way again the captain and Hunt began to 
reload. 

Meanwhile little Sim was sending forth a suc- 
cession of sharp, high-pitched screeches, and was 
at the same time keeping a close watch on the 
enlarging shape of the supposed friendly boat. His 
noise had the wind to overcome, but as Paul began 
to paddle, a faint shout came back. 

“ Look out ! ” cried Milton Brown, suddenly. 
“ Those niggers are goin’ to fire ! ” 

This might have been expected, for the commander 
of the town boat could see that there were signs of a 
rescue, and would try to kill the fugitives if it grew 
doubtful whether he could capture them. In fact, it 
was probably the command to let the boat fall off, in 
order to get a better use of the men’s weapons, that 
had exposed the corsair officers to the captain’s fire. 
Whoever was in command was cool and steady enough 


86 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


to get his men to work again, and was now ready to 
try to pay back the two punishing shots. 

All on board the little boat stooped, and the next 
moment the musket and pistol balls were humming 
by their heads. As the noise of the volley died 
away, there was a glance from one to the other, 
and looks of relief passed as it was seen that no one 
was hit. 

“They’ll make a dash, next, I guess,” the captain 
said, as Paul and Gardner again got the boat in 
motion. “ Jim, have you finished loading ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Fire, then. Aim at the fellows in the stern- 
sheets.” 

The broad bows of the boat had begun to swing, 
and there was no time to lose. The sailor fired, and 
a man on the after thwart shot to his feet and as 
quickly sat down. 

“Missed the officers,” commented the captain, as 
the smoke rose. “ Never mind, you hit somebody, 
and I’ve got a pill left.” 

The chance, whatever it had been, now looked 
wofully small. A glance seaward showed the 
second boat pulling steadily in, but apparently too 
far off to arrive in time. 

“ Say, father ! ” broke out Paul, at this critical 
moment. “ Why not swing off and give our 
people a chance to shoot ? Say we do, and then 
all join in a hail ? They’ll make up their minds 
then that we’re friends, which now they are not 
sure of.” 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 8 / 

“ Good ! Do it,” promptly answered the captain. 
“ Here ! you’re as good a shot as I am. You take 
the gun. Give me the paddle.” 

They changed places, and as they did so those in 
the town boat fired a few scattering shots. 

Paul thought that his father had a motive in tak- 
ing the board other than in merely spelling him, and 
that was to get him into a less exposed position, but 
there was no time then to consider the question. The 
strange boat had plainly hung in the wind a little, 
not liking the deadly musket-fire,- but at this point 
the crew could be seen to put on a spurt. 

“Now,” cried Paul, jumping up, “all ready for the 
hail! One, two — ” 

The powerful voices of all on board rose in ( a 
single tremendous “ Hello ! ” 

As the prolonged noise died away, there was a 
half-second’s silence and then a deep, answering 
shout. Forgetting, for the instant, the approaching 
enemy, all on board turned their heads that way and 
watched breathlessly. The next moment a wink of 
flame broke from the bow of the unknown boat, and 
with the grum roar a swivel-ball' whizzed past. It 
struck in the water not a fathom from the Moor’s 
port bow. 

“ That’s worth a farm in Ohio ! ” shouted and 
laughed the captain. 

“ Now give ’em that other charge, Paul. Be care- 
ful how you aim ! ” 

The young fellow bounded up, put forth the long 
gun, and pulled the trigger. 


88 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ Why, you’ve made ’em turn tail ! ” shouted the 
captain as the smoke drifted away. 

The shot, though it could not be seen to have 
killed or disabled any one, did, indeed, appear to 
have the effect the captain said. A high-pitched 
voice on the double-banker gave an order, one row 
of oars backed water and the other pulled, and 
around the broad craft went. 

“ It’s a case where appearances are deceitful,” 
laughed Paul. “ I didn’t do ’em much damage. 
Jim, haven’t you got another charge in ? ” 

“Yes, but this plaguy pan bothers me,” answered 
the sailor. “ It won’t stay, — all right now.” 

He rapidly primed, raised the piece, and fired. 

As the flame broke from the muzzle he took a 
step backward and abruptly dropped the gun. 

“ I guess I put in two charges,” he grunted. “ She 
kicked like sin ! ” 

All hands were feeling the exhilaration of the 
change of luck, and all laughed. It was only a 
few moments before the rescuing boat dashed up. 

“Who are you ? ” inquired the officer in command, 
sharply. He spoke in good English, but with an 
American accent. “ What boat is that ? ” 

Before he was very near he had made his men 
hang on their oars, and he was still several fathoms 
off. Notwithstanding that he had readily fired on 
the pursuing party, it was evident that he was still 
somewhat suspicious. The corsairs were understood 
to be up to all kinds of artful tricks. 

“ I am an American shipmaster, and this is a part 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 


89 


of my crew,” answered the captain. “ We have been 
slaves in the town, and were trying to get away. 
That boat was chasing us.” 

“Then we are glad we happened to be around,” 
said the officer, with a sudden change of manner. 
“ I wish it was not against my orders, or I would 
try to overhaul that craft. I will have a crack or 
two at her, as it is.” He passed a word along, and 
after a few seconds the swivel again flashed and 
banged. 

No harm seemed to be done, though it was believed 
that the shot had passed close. 

“Try once more,” was the command. 

The boat was by this time nearly out of range, 
but the little gun was trained and fired. As before, 
no harm was done. 

“That will do,” said the officer. “Will you board 
us ? ” he inquired of Captain Woods. 

“ We should like to,” answered the captain. “ We 
have only an oar and a piece of plank to get along 
with.” 

“All right. Fetch up to our quarter.” 

As soon as they were out of their boat she was 
cast off, and the officer laid his course for the now 
approaching ship. 

“ I suppose you were out for patrol work ? ” said 
Captain Woods, inquiringly, after he had rested a 
moment. 

“Yes,” answered the officer. “It is pretty neces- 
sary just now, for the Vixen is the only ship left on 
the blockade. The rest of the fleet has gone to 


90 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


Tangiers. We had an account to settle with the old 
rascal of an emperor. He has been trying his hand 
at pirate tricks. It was because our ships were all 
gone,” he went on to explain, “ and the Vixen was on 
an outside cruise, that Captain Bainbridge was taken. 
If we had been here, we would have kept back the 
cowardly whelps and taken all hands off. But Preble 
will soon be here, and he’ll even things up.” 

“ Excuse me, but you speak of Captain Preble,” 
said Captain Woods, in surprise. “ I thought Captain 
Morris commanded the fleet.” 

“He did,” answered the officer, “till about six 
weeks ago. He was succeeded then by Captain 
Preble.” 

“ I see.” The speaker had never heard of Captain 
Preble, but he did not doubt that he was a brave and 
capable officer. No indifferent man, if any such 
commanded a ship in the splendid little navy at that 
time, was likely to be appointed to this difficult 
station. 

“ By the way, what is your name ? ” inquired the 
lieutenant — if that was his rank — of the old captain. 

“Woods, and this is my son Paul,” was the answer. 
“He was my second mate.” 

The officer nodded cordially. “ My name is Jones,” 
he said, in return, “ and I am acting second lieutenant 
of the Vixen.” 

The tall masts and spreading sails of the schooner 
herself had now begun to come out clearly, but Mr. 
Jones and the captain talked for a few minutes longer. 
At last they came comparatively near, and the schooner 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 9 1 

backed her topsail and deadened her way till they 
could pull up. The commander was waiting for them 
at the gangway, for he had heard the firing, and 
through his night-glass had made out something of 
the movements of the boats, but not enough to be 
clear as to what had happened. It took but a 
moment for the lieutenant to make his report, and 
then Captain Woods and his party were presented. 
The officer received them pleasantly, and asked Cap- 
tain Woods a few questions, after which he turned 
them over to the master-at-arms. “ See that they 
have whatever they need,” was his command. They 
were accordingly taken below, and clean clothes and 
something to eat furnished them. But first they 
took a thorough bath. By this time they began to 
feel the reaction from all that they had been through, 
and were ready to make use of their hammocks. 
These were shortly provided, and they were soon 
filling them. They slept well, and turned out with 
the relief of the morning watch. The officer of the 
deck greeted them pleasantly, and gave them the 
information that they were now eager to acquire. 
The fleet had gone to Tangiers, as they had already 
heard, but would soon return, and it was then intended 
to take aggressive steps against the bashaw. There 
was probably little hope of recovering the captain’s 
ship, or any individual property, the officer thought, 
and the most that those aggrieved could look for was 
the bashaw’s humiliation and freedom from further 
Tripolitan outrages. As to a chance to return home, 
that would not be likely to occur at once, but most 


92 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


probably would in the course of a few weeks. By 
that time there would doubtless be a reason for send- 
ing a vessel either to Malta or to Syracuse, whence a 
passage, more or less direct, could be obtained to the 
States. 

This told the captain the most that he wanted to 
know, but he asked a few other questions. He 
learned that the commander of the Vixen was Lieu- 
tenant John Smith, that the officers and crew num- 
bered eighty-two, and that the vessel mounted twelve 
guns. She had been sent out especially for this 
blockade duty, and for operations in shoal parts of 
the harbour, and it seemed that she had proved herself 
efficient in this work. “ But we want more craft of 
her class,” the officer observed. “ I am glad to be 
able to say we are to have them.” He then went on 
to give some instances in which vessels of light draught 
had proved especially efficient, and in the course of 
this talk enlightened the captain considerably as to 
the extent to which the fleet had already damaged 
the enemy. It seemed that it had destroyed the 
bashaw’s largest cruiser, had crippled several gun- 
boats, and had taken a number of small vessels 
loaded with grain. This in addition to the loss and 
damage effected by blockading the harbour. 

By the time that the talk with the officer had 
ended the breakfast-call blew, and the captain joined 
his companions and went to mess. After break- 
fast Lieutenant Smith sent for Captain Woods and 
heard the details of his story, and questioned him 
about matters ashore. He confirmed what the officer 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 


93 


of the deck had said concerning the probable oppor- 
tunity for the captain and his party to return home, 
but said that they would be welcome aboard, mean- 
while, and that Captain Preble should be informed 
about them on his return. In addition to this kind- 
ness, the lieutenant offered to give the captain better 
quarters than he now had, putting a berth in the 
steerage at his disposal. All this the captain thanked 
him gratefully for, but declined the offer. He did 
not wish to be separated from his companions, he 
explained. 

The remainder of the day nothing worth mention- 
ing happened, and the party lounged about the ship 
and enjoyed the rest and change. The next morning 
the Vixen was sailed along by the harbour, and a sharp 
look taken at things within, but nothing new was dis- 
covered. The schooner then ran out a little, but 
later in the day returned, and continued to stand off 
and on. 

It will be in the interest of brevity to consider this 
day the type of a number of succeeding ones. In 
fact, it was past the middle of December before Cap- 
tain Preble and his returning fleet appeared. As 
soon as signals had been exchanged, and the flag- 
ship was within a convenient distance, Lieutenant 
Smith boarded his gig and was pulled over to her. 
He was gone some time, and when he returned wore 
a satisfied look. He kindly explained to Captain 
Woods the substance of what he had learned, and 
gave him permission to report it to his companions. 
It seemed that the expedition of the fleet had been 


94 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


completely successful, securing the punishment of 
the guilty parties, and a respectful salute to the Amer- 
ican flag. The loss of the Philadelphia Captain 
Preble had already heard of, having received the 
news from an English ship. He would say little on 
the subject, the lieutenant said, “but,” he added, 
significantly, “ it will be well for the bashaw to keep 
his weather eye peeled and have his men handy at 
their guns.” 

“ As to your own matter,” the lieutenant then 
went on, “ I mentioned it, and told the captain what 
you wished, hie said that he would send you all 
home at the first opportunity, but that, meanwhile, 
he would like to see you and have the chance to ask 
a few questions.” 

“ Certainly, and I am much obliged to you,” an- 
swered the captain. 

It appeared that Captain Preble had not set the 
time, but the lieutenant thought that early that 
afternoon would do, and accordingly, about three 
bells, the lieutenant ordered away one of his boats 
and sent the captain to the flag-ship. He was gone 
about an hour, and when he came back called to- 
gether the rest of the barque’s party. He said that 
he had found Captain Preble a pleasant gentleman, 
though rather exact and punctilious in his manner, 
and that he was much pleased with the ship. “ But 
the thing I have mainly to say,” he went on, “is this : 
the frigate is a little short of men, and the captain 
wants to know if the company of you would like to 
enlist. He says he will take me along as a passenger, 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 


95 


and will keep me as long as you stay. I should be 
allowed to have my quarters with you, just as I do 
now. He says that the business here won’t be likely 
to last over a few months, and that it is probable that 
the ship will then be ordered home. Of course, I 
couldn’t speak for any of you, but that is the prop- 
osition.” 

For a moment no one answered, though Paul 
glanced at his father. 

“ I don’t think it would be a bad thing,” the old 
gentleman smiled and said, understanding the look. 

“Then I’ll accept.” 

“So will I.” This from Jim Hunt. “The usual 
navy wages, I suppose ? ” he subjoined. 

“ I presume so.” 

The others then consented, also. Even little Sim 
did not hold back. 

“All right, then,” said the captain, with a satisfied 
look. “I’ll tell the lieutenant, and he’ll report. 
If I was twenty years younger I would take hold, 
too.” 

In this way the unexpected change in their plan 
was made, and it will shorten matters to say that 
they went aboard the frigate and were “ put on the 
books ” that same night. The signing was in the 
main cabin, and in the presence of Captain Preble, 
whom Paul and the men thus got a good look at. 
He was seated at the time, but seemed of a fair 
height, and his figure was erect and well-proportioned. 
He had a good-looking, but rather serious face, and 
his small side-whiskers covered somewhat square 


9 6 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


and aggressive jaws and ended at the corners of a 
resolute mouth. He was at this time in the prime of 
life, and was called an efficient commander, though a 
little rigid and severe as a disciplinarian. 

As soon as the legal part of the ceremony was over, 
they were dismissed and taken to their new quarters. 
They were given billets and hammocks, told that they 
should have mess-rigs and other necessaries in the 
morning, and be assigned then to their stations. 
With this they were left to themselves. There 
were, of course, rows of hammocks, rounded out with 
sleepers, all about them, and considerable hard- 
breathing, as well as snoring, but they had become 
by this time used to such surroundings, and in a few 
minutes were rounding out their own canvas and 
adding their noise to the rest. 

They “broke out” at the call of the first day 
watch, and dressed and went on deck. There seemed 
to be nothing for them to do at the moment, and 
they improved the time to look about and get an idea 
of their new home. 

The Constitution was then only about six years old 
and was almost untried as to her fighting qualities. 
She was relatively long, having been at first designed 
for a ship of the line, and was of fair beam and well 
sparred. A peculiarity in her fighting equipment 
was the arrangement of her guns, which were all on 
one deck, a plan possible on account of her length. 
Following the usual construction of the frigates of 
her day, her mainmast was placed what seemed a 
disproportionate distance aft, by this means securing 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 


97 


a roomy fighting-deck. To balance such a spread of 
after-canvas, her head-sails were extended to an ex- 
treme point forward and were spread on extraordi- 
narily strong and rather complicated rigging. Of 
course everything in sight was in perfect order, and 
the deck was shining with the scrubbing and holy- 
stoning it had just received. 

There was a general murmur of approbation as the 
party finished their inspection, and every man was 
pleased that he was on the books of so fine a ship. 
There was still a little time to spare, and they went 
forward, and, from a position where they could get 
a good view around, took a look at things outside. 

The other ships were jogging leisurely about, 
standing off and on, and the town opened up as 
usual, showing its glimmer of white buildings at the 
end of the long horseshoe of the harbour. Not much 
could be made out, with the naked eye, of the 
moored ships, but here and there the gleam of 
the sail of a small craft could be seen moving about. 

By the time they had looked a little longer the 
pipes shrilled for breakfast, and they fell in with the 
other men, and went below, waking up to the feeling, 
as they did so, that they were no longer their own 
masters, but had become part of the machine called 
the crew. 

Breakfast over, they were given their numbers at 
mess, for their billets, and were assigned to their 
fighting and working stations. The boy Sim was 
made one of the messengers, with the station of a 
powder-monkey in time of battle. As it happened, 


98 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

none of the men of the barque were in the same 
fighting assignment, but Paul and Jim Hunt had 
billets near each other, and the whole company were 
permitted to be together in the mess. 

It did not take Paul and the others long to make 
acquaintances, and they soon began to feel at home. 
All the new recruits were now in their full seamen 
togs, and they made a very creditable show. Paul 
looked like an ideal sailor, as he stood among his new 
shipmates, dressed in a flat, glazed hat, blue shirt, 
with wide, turn-down collar, white duck breeches, 
and well-oiled shoes. His round, shapely throat 
showed above the collar, and his deep chest was 
apparent despite the loose shirt. A knife was secured 
by a lanyard to his neck, and rested in a sheath in 
his belt. The others were similarly dressed, and also 
showed off well, even little Sim comparing favourably 
with his companion monkeys. 

That day the ship and her consorts merely stood 
leisurely off and on, and nothing happened that looked 
like active work. 

“ But delay is all the better for you,” said Paul’s 
father to him that night. “ It gives you time to 
learn the ropes. I mean, of course, the man-o’-war 
requirements.” 

Paul acquiesced, though he would have been glad 
to see more stir and excitement. However, he con- 
trolled his impatience and went about the important 
business of thoroughly learning his duties. 

The talk of those on board now turned to the 
subject of the expected auxiliary vessels. These 


THE BREATH OF LIBERTY. 


99 


were the ones that the party had already heard 
about, and were the light craft intended for harbour 
operations. 

“ And when them craft arrive the fur’ll fly,” sen- 
ten tiously remarked an old tar to Paul. “ I was with 
the old man when the Maidstone tried to make us 
knuckle to her, and made a bad job of it. 'Send a 
boat,’ says her cap’n. * Send a boat ? ’ answers our 
skipper, — it was as dark as Tophet, and we couldn’t 
tell how big she was, — ‘ I’ll send a boat on board no 
ship. Blow your matches, boys ! ’ The matches 
was bio wed, but the skipper of the Maidstone didn’t 
give us no chance to use ’em. That’s the kind of 
man, young feller, that Cap’n Preble is.” 

Paul laughed, and went aft, holding a better opinion 
than ever of his reserved and self-reliant commander. 

All hands now settled down to wait with what 
patience was possible for the moment when Preble 
should at last give the word to begin. This, as all 
agreed, would be immediately upon the arrival of the 
other ships. 


Lore. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. 

HE Tripolitans were not the sort of people to 



JL neglect their own interests. There was a shift 
of wind on the day after the Philadelphia grounded, 
and the seas were driven in till they partly loosened 
her from the rocks. The bashaw sent a number of 
barges and galleys, and, after plugging the holes that 
the Americans had made in her bottom, they suc- 
ceeded in floating her. As soon as the wind went 
down a little she was towed to the city, and anchored 
directly off the town and under the guns of the 
shore defences. Dragging for the guns and other 
things thrown overboard was then begun, and by the 
end of the second day the whole equipment had been 
recovered and restored to the ship. She was still in 
a wrecked condition, for Captain Bainbridge, in trying 
to get her off, had cut away the foremast, and in 
falling it had dragged down the maintopgallantmast. 
These were damages that it would take some little 
time to repair, but the bashaw, despite the pressure 
of the situation, did not bestir himself, and it was 
not till several days after the wreck had been towed 
to its anchorage that he set the first of the waiting 
gangs at work. Meanwhile the Americans could do 


IOO 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. 


IOI 


nothing, for the entire operation had been conducted 
in waters where their deep-draught vessels could not 
go, or could only go by running under the guns of the 
castle and shore batteries. This was a risk too great 
to take, considering the most that was to be gained 
by success. The destruction of the Philadelphia — 
all that could be hoped for — might yet be brought 
about, and in a less hazardous way. Captain Preble 
kept his ships well away from the spot, out of reach 
of temptation, therefore, and bided his time. 

The days continued to go by, and it was nearly 
Christmas, and still there was no change in the 
situation. The expected vessels did not appear, and 
nothing had apparently been done to humble the 
bashaw and bring him nearer to making terms. So 
far from this, it was learned that he was greatly elated 
over the capture of the Philadelphia , and looked to 
making a handsome amount out of her people’s 
ransom. He treated all the prisoners well, it was 
said, allowing the officers much liberty, even to the 
extent of riding out into the suburbs of the city, 
though of course closely guarded. This, while 
pleasant for Bainbridge and his men, did not look 
much like an exhibition of fear or chagrin on the 
part of the bashaw. Thus matters ran along till one 
day a little ketch was seen to make out into the 
open part of the harbour and then stand directly 
for sea. 

“ There’s somebody to see us,” said Captain 
Woods, coming along to where Paul was watching 
the little craft. 


102 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ It looks like it ; certainly nothing in that shape 
could hope to get by us,” answered Paul. 

Meanwhile the lookout had sighted the stranger 
and reported her, and Captain Preble soon appeared. 
The little vessel stood straight toward the frigate, 
and now it could be seen, that she flew a small flag 
at her truck. The old captain walked aft, that he 
might the sooner learn what was going on, and 
watched Captain Preble as the latter turned to a 
quartermaster and received a glass. 

“ It’s somebody from Mr. Nissen,” the captain 
quickly observed, lowering the instrument. “ I hope 
he has been able to get a message from Bainbridge.” 

“ I hope so,” answered the person addressed, who 
happened to be the chaplain. 

Now Mr. Nissen was the Danish consul, and had 
already shown himself a friend to the prisoners. He 
had once before brought word from them. 

The little boat came nearer, the starboard ham- 
mock nettings of the frigate being by this time full 
of men to observe her. Most of the officers had also 
gathered on the quarter-deck. Captain Woods re- 
joined Paul and told what he had heard, and the two 
discussed the matter interestedly. 

“ If amongst them they could only get up a lively 
plot, or do something or other to stir things up ! ” 
remarked the young sailor. “Well, we shall soon 
know what this amounts to.” 

The ketch came bowling along, her queer square 
foresail (a sail since abolished on this kind of vessel) 
and far- aft mainsail bulging with wind, and when she 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. 


03 


came within musket-shot hove to and a man forward 
waved a white cloth. 

“All right,” said Captain Preble. “Let the top- 
sail be backed, and put over the gangway ladder.” 

In a few moments the ketch was close at hand 
and came into the wind, hauling around her yard, 
and fetching taut her main sheet. 

“Will you board me?” called out Captain Preble, 
who had meantime called for and received his 
trumpet. 

The man with the white cloth had already dropped 
it, and was now standing by the little after-house. 
He apparently said something to the man at the 
tiller, and instead of answering picked up a coil of 
small line and grasped a ball, or some similar object, 
made fast to the end. By this time the ketch was 
near enough so that the man’s face could be seen. 
He was swarthy and looked like a Moor, though he 
was dressed in European or American trousers and 
hat. His body dress was a white tunic, girt in at 
the waist by a long sash. 

“That’s Nissen’s servant!” remarked Paul. “I 
remember him. He is the fellow that came out with 
the other message.” 

“ I know,” answered his father. “ But this time 
he isn’t coming aboard. Probably the orders from 
shore are more strict.” 

This in fact proved to be the case. The man 
would not come aboard, but instead flung the little 
ball attached to the line, which one of the men 
caught, and as soon as possible sheered off. The 


104 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


little ball was made of paper and covered with oil- 
skin, and contained the expected letter. Captain 
Preble at once returned to his cabin to read it. Long 
after the ketch was a little spot on the water of the 
harbour, the old salt kept his cabin, and when he 
finally appeared again it was to make no immediate 
reference to the letter. But the natural curiosity of 
man, and especially the curiosity of a Yankee, is not 
to be so restrained. Sharp eyes and ears were put 
on the watch, and a few of the easier-going midship- 
men were applied to. Perhaps the old commander 
was not really so particular about having the secret 
kept as he seemed, but at any rate by the next morn- 
ing it was out. It was nothing more or less than 
this : Captain Bainbridge had written an ordinary 
letter to Captain Preble, the most of it dwelling on 
the prisoners’ condition and the rather surprising 
kindness of the bashaw, and alluding, in a rather de- 
spondent strain, to the strength and completeness 
of the city’s defences. One sentence alone seemed 
a little blind, and appeared to wander from the con- 
nected passages that preceded it. This was an allu- 
sion to the great heat of the weather, but ended with 
the words : “ And yet heat has its uses, as you and I 
once discovered.” The letter then closed in a com- 
monplace way. 

Captain Preble was not a man who needed his wits 
sharpened on a grindstone. He reflected a moment, 
and called to mind that Captain Bainbridge and he 
had once discovered the usefulness of a certain kind 
of cipher message, being one that was written with 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. 105 

an acid, and needed heat to bring it out. He then 
picked up the letter again and saw that there was 
nearly a page of seemingly blank paper at the end. 
In a twinkling he had a lamp going and in a few 
seconds more he was reading some closely written 
lines traced seemingly in some yellow liquid. It was 
simple enough. Captain Bainbridge had made a 
little lime-juice do duty for cipher ink. When fully 
read this postscript was found to outline a plot which 
should have for its object the destruction of the 
Philadelphia. The captain had learned her exact 
position, how she was guarded, what guns from the 
castle or the nearest shore battery bore upon her, 
and what war-vessels lay near her. According to 
the plucky sailor’s idea, it was entirely feasible to 
capture and burn her, and he believed that a 
rightly managed party would suffer little loss in 
doing it. 

The captain had read this letter at first to his 
executive officer, and then had produced and read it 
at a kind of general council of all the lieutenants. It 
was promptly agreed that Captain Bainbridge’s advice 
ought to be followed, and that the expedition should 
as soon as possible be organised. It was evident, of 
course, that just the right kind of vessel must be 
found, in order that the destroyers should be able to 
approach the frigate without exciting suspicion. For 
this they might have to wait a little time, as it was 
soon agreed that it ought to be some small native 
craft. She would have to carry combustibles, of 
course, and a sufficiently large crew to overcome 


o 6 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


the keepers of the ship. These last, nevertheless, 
it was presumed, were to be taken by surprise. 

So much was practically settled, and it only re- 
mained to get hold of the right kind of craft and 
proceed with the undertaking. In a few days, it 
was believed, the new vessels would arrive, and then 
it might be easier to catch the small craft wished for. 
This all turned out according to their hopes. The 
new ships did not at once appear, but still they were 
able to take the first step in the undertaking. On 
December 23d, Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, Jr., in 
the brig Argus , captured the Tripolitan ketch Mas- 
ticOy as she was slipping out of the harbour. She was 
loaded with female slaves, and was bound for Con- 
stantinople. She was the very craft for the purposes 
desired, as she was larger and fuller in the beam than 
most vessels of her class, and for this use was more 
conveniently rigged. In fact, she was originally a 
French gunboat, and had been bought by the bashaw 
and turned into a kind of despatch-boat. So far so 
good, but here all hands were vexed and disappointed, 
for the wind shifted and blew so hard that Captain 
Preble was unable to hold the station. After some 
lively tossing about, he set the signals and squared 
away for Sicily. Once safely anchored off Syracuse 
the plot was taken up again and the last details ar- 
ranged. The ketch was to return to Tripoli, accom- 
panied only by the brig Siren , and both vessels were 
to keep out of sight and make the final attempt 
a surprise. The Siren was under the command of 
Lieut. Charles Stewart, and carried an armament 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. 


07 


of sixteen 24-pound carronades, and was strongly 
manned. 

Lieutenant Decatur, who had been selected to 
command the Mastico, and was, therefore, the man 
upon whom most of the success of the expedition 
depended, had picked out seventy-four persons, all 
told, to accompany him, and had one small gun. Of 
the officers chosen, six were from the Constitution 
and the remaining six from the Enterprise. The 
second in command was Lieut. James Lawrence, 
and the others were Midshipman Joseph Bainbridge 
(brother of the imprisoned captain), Midshipmen 
Jonathan Thorn, Thomas Macdonough (afterward 
the hero of the battle of Lake Champlain), Ralph 
Izard, Charles Morris (a few years later distin- 
guished as the very competent first officer of the 
Constitution ), Alexander Laws, surgeon’s mate Lewis 
Hermon, and five of lesser note. A Spaniard, or 
Portuguese, by the name of Salvatore Catalano was 
chosen a pilot. Besides knowing the harbour thor- 
oughly, he spoke Arabic, and could easily pass for a 
Maltese, which it was concluded best he should do. 
The crew numbered sixty-two and were taken from 
two or more of the ships. They were, of course, all 
picked men, and most of them had seen fighting. 
Paul had not expected to be among the favoured 
number, as he was scarcely known to Decatur, and, 
in fact, had spoken with him but once, which was 
to answer some questions about the strength of the 
bashaw’s batteries, but to his pleased surprise his 
name was among those called. He afterward 


108 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

learned that this honour came to him, in part be- 
cause Decatur had remembered him and liked his 
appearance, and partly because a young sailor, by the 
name of Reuben James, who was a favourite with 
Decatur, being a cool and hard fighter, had spoken 
a word for him. James had from the first taken a 
fancy to Paul, and the latter was in turn attracted by 
the bluff, plucky young sailor. 

At length all was ready, and the good-byes were 
said and the canvas set. Decatur’s orders were to 
take no prisoners and not to try to cut the Philadel- 
phia out, but to destroy her. Under the deck of the 
little vessel, to make this part of the plan effective, 
was stored a great mass of combustibles. The prin- 
cipal, of course, was powder, but there were also pitch, 
oil, and turpentine. The sleeping accommodations 
were poor and restricted, and there was only a small 
supply of provisions, but the voyage was expected to 
be short. 

The run was made in good time and without acci- 
dent, and one evening the two vessels hove to a few 
miles off the harbour. Up to this time all had gone 
well, but now they had to put up with a disappoint- 
ment. The treacherous weather changed, and for six 
days they had to face a stiff and squally wind that 
blew straight out of the harbour. There was noth- 
ing to do but keep all snug and wait, and this was 
what they stubbornly but not very patiently did. 
Those on the Siren got along well enough, but on 
the crowded little ketch, with but poor accommoda- 
tions, and, what was worse, a lively army of vermin, 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. IO9 

it was decidedly uncomfortable. Decatur, being of a 
fiery nature, must have been sadly tried, and at times 
he did look dark and was not inclined to talk, but 
nothing to show his feelings passed his lips. Paul 
was among the most patient and philosophical of the 
crew, a fact, perhaps, partly due to the lessons of his 
late experience. 

At last the gale broke, and within an hour the 
Mastico was again ready to start. During the time 
that they were waiting, several men on the Siren had 
begged hard to be allowed to join, and finally Decatur 
had received seven. Sail was now made, and the 
Mastico stood away and pointed her bows for the 
town. She had a fair wind, which was moderate in 
weight, and the other weather conditions were 
what the adventurers wanted. There was no 
moon, but the night was clear, with a good show 
of stars. 

Of course all the details of the attack were under- 
stood. The plan was first to carry the spar-deck of 
the frigate, then the gun-deck, and after this the 
company was to break up into prearranged groups, 
and each was to attend to its own especial business. 
As it would not do to leave the ketch unguarded, 
Midshipman Thorn, the assistant surgeon, a gunner 
and thirteen men were detailed to stay in her. Mid- 
shipman Anderson and a few sailors were to man the 
tender and do scout duty, also cutting off the escape 
of any who might take to the water. Decatur him- 
self, with a company of seventeen, undertook to 
guard the spar-deck. All the others were to be 


10 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


engaged in firing the ship. The watchword was to 
be “ Philadelphia.” 

The distance from the mouth of the harbour was 
not great, and in a few minutes the glimmering streak 
which marked the town began to brighten and grow 
more distinct. By and by this streak lost its even- 
ness, grew brighter still, and soon came out as distinct 
starry points. Presently the large buildings, particu- 
larly the castle, could be distinguished, and immedi- 
ately afterward the masts and finally the hulls of the 
shipping. 

Decatur had been sitting aft, but here he rose and 
went forward. He had thrown off his cloak, and as 
he swung up to the little deck and balanced himself, 
his figure stood out in distinct shape. He was a 
little above the medium height, rather spare but 
wiry, erect and full of nervous but well-restrained 
energy. There was something a trifle like an Indian 
about him, with his dark face, his bold, keen black 
eyes, and his catlike movements. Nevertheless, he 
was impetuously brave, rather than cunning or crafty, 
and his head was held high when he moved, as though 
he were ready to face an admiral. 

After a moment or two he came aft again. 

“ You may take in the buckets and make a bit more 
sail,” he said, in a low tone, to Lieutenant Lawrence. 

The ketch had been going a trifle fast, and the 
buckets had been thrown over for drags and the 
canvas somewhat reduced. Now they would not be 
too early, and it looked less suspicious to be carrying 
an ordinary amount of sail. 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. I I I 

“ Here comes a little craft, sir; I guess a fisher- 
man,” half whispered Mr. Lawrence the next moment. 

“ We’ll hold on as we are,” answered Decatur. “ It 
won’t do to seem shy.” 

But he made an understood sign to the men, and 
all but about a dozen crouched down out of sight. 

The boat, which was probably a fisherman, as 
the lieutenant said, here tacked and stood off toward 
the west. Next came a little open craft, perhaps a 
moss or wood gatherer, and then another fisherman, 
but none passed very near. By this time two of the 
bashaw’s gunboats bore directly off their port bow, 
and the larger shapes of the schooners and other 
craft distinctly opened up. Still farther on, just off 
the castle, was the lonely bulk of the frigate, but she 
was head on, and the particulars about her were not 
yet plain. At a glance she looked like a kind of big, 
clumsy ark, for her foremast was gone, and her main 
and mizzen topmasts had been housed. Her lower 
yards were also down. There were lights here and 
there on her, but as yet no distinct show of men. 
Doubtless some would appear, however, as they came 
nearer. 

“ St ! ” came in a sharp hiss from Decatur’s lips. 
In a twinkling all but six or eight men, and those 
wearing Maltese caps and blouses, were out of sight. 
They had for the greater part dropped down behind 
the bulwarks, though some crouched in the waist 
among the bags of combustibles. Decatur himself 
remained beside Catalano, who had now taken the 
helm. The lieutenant wore a plain jacket and a 


I 12 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


V. 


vizorless, glazed cap, so that he would not be likely 
to attract attention. The Mastico was by this time 
pretty close in, and must shortly expect to be hailed. 

‘‘Keep her as she is. I want to foul their bows,” 
whispered Decatur. 

A fathom nearer, and then two men suddenly rose 
up from an obscure spot by the ship’s knightheads 
and looked at them. At once came the expected 
hail. 

“ Hello ! What boat is that ? ” 

Catalano of course had his answer ready. He 
spoke in Arabic. 

“ Only a little ketch from Malta. Can’t I sell 
you some onions or dried beef ? ” 

“No; keep off!” interrupted the man. “What 
are you dropping sail for ? ” he went on as the hal- 
yards were at this moment let go, and the ketch 
dipped slowly, and with her way deadened toward 
the ship. 

Here Decatur stooped a little, but not in a way 
to attract attention, and whispered something to 
Catalano. 

“Why, I’ve lost my anchors, and I’ve got to make 
fast to something,” the pilot answered. “ Why can’t 
you let me tie up to you till morning ? I’ll sell you 
some provisions cheap, or — yes, I’ll make you a little 
present.” 

The man in the bows turned and exchanged a word 
with his companion. 

“ What brig is that in the offing ? ” he suddenly 
and in another tone asked. 


A BIT* OF YANKEE AUDACITY. I 1 3 

For an instant there was no answer. Even Decatur 
was a little taken aback. Despite all their care, the 
Siren had evidently been seen. Luckily, they had 
taken pains to make some changes in her looks, so 
that she was not easily to be recognised. But the 
delay must be short. Again Decatur managed to 
whisper instructions to the pilot. 

“ She’s a brig-of-war, and came from my port,” 
Catalano then answered. “ As I understand it, she’s 
been sold to the bashaw. She was originally an 
English vessel. Her name is the Transfer 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed the Moor, with a sudden change 
of manner. “Is that the Transfer ? Yes, we’ve 
been expecting her. Well, you may make fast to 
us. Come under our stern.” 

Decatur half rose, and cast a quick glance ahead. 
He had no idea of passing under the frigate’s stern, 
and her nearest cable was not more than five fathoms 
off. It seemed as though the moment that the ad- 
venturers had so long waited for was at hand. Cata- 
lano did not answer the Moor, and the ketch edged 
a little nearer. Just then a tiny catspaw breezed 
around from the land, and caught the little vessel 
and checked her. Decatur drew a quick, sharp 
breath, as Paul Woods plainly heard from where 
he sat, but the next moment he was again 
steady. 

Catalano spoke to a couple of the men, and in a 
lazy fashion they climbed into the tender. Midship- 
man Anderson, who was to command her, then fol- 
lowed, and then two more men. She shoved off, and 


I 14 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

with a line handed aboard pulled up to the frigate’s 
starboard cable. 

“ Hold on, there ! What are you doing ? ” sang 
out the Moorish officer. “You are to go astern. 
I’ve sent a boat with a line.” 

Just as he spoke, a small boat carrying two men, 
one of whom was holding the end of a light cable, 
came around the frigate’s bow. 

“ Tell Anderson to take it,” whispered Decatur, 
swiftly. “ Board it, and pass it along so that the 
men can haul on it.” 

“Thank you ! ” said Catalano, turning, and looking 
up to the Moor. “ Men,” he said to Anderson and 
the others, “take the end of that cable, and pass it 
aboard.” 

He spoke in Arabic, which neither Anderson nor 
the men understood, but his gestures, and what the 
midshipman already understood, were enough. The 
middy quickly obeyed the order, and the cable was 
boarded and thrust along the deck. As soon as 
this was done Anderson picked up an oar and gave a 
shove, which took the boat over to the frigate’s cable. 
In a flash the line was around it, and secured. 

By this time the stir and talk had woke up or in- 
terested others on the frigate, and the space along 
the bow-rail was filling with figures. Several ports, 
too, were opened, and more than one curious head 
was thrust out. 

“ Haul away ! ” said Decatur, now venturing for 
the first time to give a direct command. He took 
pains, however, to speak low. 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. I I 5 

The men were waiting for the order, and instantly 
began to pull. The ketch quickly started to move 
diagonally toward the frigate’s bow. 

“ Hello, there ! I thought you said you’d lost 
your anchors ! ” cried the Moorish officer, all at 
once. “You have cheated me! You dog! I will 
have you bastinadoed ! ” 

“ He sees we’ve got our anchors,” whispered 
Catalano. 

“ Haul lively, men ! ” in a low, but distinct tone, 
commanded Decatur. 

But at this moment there was a wild and alarmed 
shout from the frigate’s deck. The ketch was now 
close in, and those above could look down and see 
the hidden men. 

“Jump up, and haul with a will, men!” shouted 
Decatur, seeing that the deception could no longer 
be kept up. 

Every man was instantly on his feet, and the 
ketch went sliding swiftly up to the quietly dipping, 
lofty bow. 

“ Push her along ! Fetch up to that port ! ” cried 
Decatur again. 

He ran forward, as he spoke, and whipped out his 
sword. 

Just then one of the Moors jumped upon the heel 
of the bowsprit, and swung down into the under- 
rigging. With two or three quick blows he cut 
the line that was secured to the cable. He was 
plucky, but too late, for the ketch was already 
grinding along the frigate’s side. 


Il6 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

The rest of the boarding party were meantime 
crowding along the rail ready for the first chance 
to leap. As the ketch slid up to the nearest port, 
Decatur, who stood abreast of the foremast, gathered 
for a spring. At that moment his feet slipped, and 
he had to jump back to save himself. Midshipman 
Laws was next, and made a leap, and landed on the 
edge of the port. He ducked to enter, but all at 
once stopped, and seemed to be in some kind of 
trouble. A wrench that he just then gave his belt 
showed what it was, and that his pistols had caught 
on some projecting object. Midshipman Morris 
was next, and with a twist and a wriggle he was 
in at the opening, and out of sight. This was all 
the business of a few seconds. Before the Moors 
above could collect their senses the other boarders 
were following one another, like a line of rats, in at 
the open hole. Those who did not care to wait ran 
to the next port, and a few eager fellows jumped into 
the chains and scrambled over the bulwarks. Only 
the guard party and Anderson and his little crew 
were in sight at the end of the next minute. 

The observing heads above had shot back suddenly 
as the attacking party began to pour aboard, and sev- 
eral ports were shut. There was quickly afterward 
a great shouting below the decks, and a slapping 
sound of running feet, but no noise of fighting, 
unless it might be a single rasping note of steel. 
It had been Decatur’s orders that, except in case 
of extreme necessity, no pistols should be used, and 
it was probable that the enemy had not as yet col- 


A BIT OF YANKEE AUDACITY. I 1 7 

lected their wits sufficiently to use their own fire- 
arms. Possibly not many were within immediate 
reach. 

There must now be a little time of anxious waiting 
for those outside, and they settled themselves down 
as well as they could, every man with his eyes and 
ears wide open. 


CHAPTER IX. 


MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. 

OR a few minutes there was nothing new to be 



JL made out of the sounds on the frigate. As far 
as could be judged, the boarders were having things 
their own way, and the enemy were making no effort 
at resistance. 

Perhaps three minutes more went by, and then 
there was a sharper and more distinct outcry, and all 
at once five or six men appeared at the midship’s rail. 
They were in Moorish dress and two carried yata- 
ghans. One appeared to be slightly wounded. They 
looked around for an instant, as though undecided, 
and then jumped upon the rail. Just then a louder 
noise came from below, and following it broke out 
a distinct Yankee shout. The men hesitated no 
longer, but, as with one motion, dove off the rail. 

“ Steady, there ! ” coolly sang out Midshipman 
Thorn, as several of his crew jumped up. “This 
is not our job. Mr. Anderson will look after it.” 

The men dropped back, and all eyes were turned 
on the cutter. 

The little craft had been hanging about in the 
shadow of the frigate’s quarter, but at this point 
Anderson gave an order and his crew promptly 


MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. II9 

drove in their oars. With a few strokes they were 
among the bobbing heads of the divers. Paul Woods 
was one of the crew on the ketch, and though he had 
sat coolly in his place when the men took their 
plunge, he now turned his head away, for he did 
not wish to see what was to follow. It might be 
necessary, but it shocked him and made him 
shrink. 

The next moment he heard a groan and the sound 
of a thudding blow, followed by a heavy splashing. 

“Use the point ! ” he then heard Anderson say, 
sharply. After that there was more splashing. 

Paul kept his head around for a few seconds longer, 
but by that time it was evident that the terrible work 
was finished. He looked back, and truly enough, the 
swimmers had disappeared. The men in the cutter 
were lying on their oars, except two, who were washing 
their cutlasses. 

Paul drew a long breath and felt a little sick, for 
this was a kind of bloodshed to which he was not 
accustomed. For the first time he realised what war 
in all its phases really meant. 

“ It seems to me, Woods, that we are doing about 
enough to stir up the folks in the castle,” here 
remarked Mr. Thorn. “ What do you think ? ” 

“ They are used to considerable noise,” answered 
Paul. “The officers are often disciplining their 
men, and you know that means something more than 
it does with us. Besides, they occasionally whip 
their slaves. As long as there isn’t any shooting — ” 
He broke off, for just then at least a dozen men in 


120 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


Moorish dress plunged into sight, and for a moment 
stood in a row on the opposite rail. 

A dull noise, as of subdued shouting, broke out at 
the next moment, somewhere behind them, and, with 
a few final looks back, the whole company dove or 
leaped off. ' 

“ By Jove ! we’ve got ’em ! ” cried Thorn, with a 
joyful laugh. “Yes, our folks have licked ’em ! ” 

“ Here they come ! ” exclaimed Paul, elatedly. 

With a louder and sharper slapping of feet, a num- 
ber of panic-stricken Moors rushed to the rail, and 
went popping, like so many hunted seals, into the 
water. The next moment the victors came pouring 
out on deck. 

“ Below, there ! Pass up the combustibles ! ” 
shouted Decatur’s sharply pitched voice. “ Look 
alive ! ” 

The powder, turpentine, and other stuff were 
swiftly caught up and passed aboard. Some of the 
party at the rail disappeared, and in a few minutes 
those on the ketch began to smell smoke. 

“ Now aboard, all hands ! ” was the next command. 

The men plumped rapidly down upon the ketch’s 
deck. 

“ Lay aboard, Anderson ! ” called out Decatur 
again. “All right! Out with the sweeps!” 

He jumped down on the fore deck of the ketch 
himself, as he spoke, and bounded aft. By the time 
that he reached the tiller a few of the sweeps were 
shipped, and at once the head of the little craft came 
up to the wind. 


MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. 12 I 

“ The niggers have found us out ! ” chuckled a 
heavy voice at Paul’s back. He recognised it as 
belonging to Reuben James. “ There they go! 
They’re awake at last ! ” 

The sailor was right, for just then a swelling noise 
of shouting and the barking of dogs came from the 
shore, and, as it died down a little, several muskets 
were fired. By this time big clouds of smoke were 
rising from many parts of the ship. 

“We don’t movet” here suddenly broke out 
Decatur. “ What’s the matter ? Is something fast ? ” 

The men were tugging at the sweeps, but the boat 
did not seem to gain. 

“ It’s that other line ! ” called out Paul, who just 
then remembered about it. “We are fast to the 
ship’s stern.” 

“ Cut the infernal thing, then, and be lively about 
it ! ” roared Decatur. “ If we stay here much longer 
we shall be burned up ! ” 

In fact, sparks were already beginning to fall on 
board, and the smoke was thickening about them. 
Just then a great tongue of flame shot out of the 
cabin companion. 

The line was cut and the ketch at last began to 
slip out of the dangerous neighbourhood. It was 
dangerous in more than one way, for not only would 
such a body of flame as the ship must shortly belch 
out be unendurable, but the guns, with which she had 
again been equipped, were doubtless loaded, and as 
soon as they should become heated would go off. 
Besides, there was the magazine. 


22 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ What’s that ? ” said one of the men, almost 
immediately afterward. He pointed to a small, 
moving object in the water. It was only a few 
fathoms off, and was at once made out to be a man’s 
head. It was moving at the moment toward the 
boat. 

“ It’s one of those poor devils. Like enough he is 
half drowned, and wholly scared out of his wits,” 
said Decatur. 

Notwithstanding the danger, he luffed, and in a 
moment the man came panting up. He was, in fact, 
a Moorish sailor. 

“ In with him ! I’ll save him, orders or no orders ! ” 
said Decatur ; and the nearly exhausted man was 
hauled on board. 

By this time the flames were everywhere bursting 
from the burning ship, and the town seemed to be 
roused to the last pitch of excitement. There was a 
perfect din of shouting and a clamour of dogs, and 
lights were springing up in all the previously dark 
quarters. In a few minutes a gun on the quay went 
off, and shortly afterward another. 

Faster now the boat went, for she was far enough 
into the harbour to feel the outside breeze. More 
guns were fired, and at last a heavy ball splashed up 
the water only a few fathoms off their quarter. 

“ It can’t last long,” thought Paul. “ I wonder if 
they’ll chase us.” 

But for some reason — perhaps because no suffi- 
ciently large vessel was quite prepared, or had her 
crew on board — they were not chased. Still the 



THE DESTRUCTION OF THE PHILADELPHIA 
























* 











































ir 















































































*■- 

\ 














MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. 1 23 

firing continued, some of the gunboats now joining 
in, and finally one ball passed through the little top- 
gallantsail. This was the last and only damaging 
shot that the enemy inflicted, however, and before 
long the Mastico cleared the mouth of the harbour. 
Just outside a larger boat was pulling slowly along, 
and from it quickly came the hail : 

“ Ketch ahoy ! Is that the Mastico ? ” 

“ Hello ! It is the Mastico . Is that you, Mr. 
Caldwell ? ” 

“ Ay, ay ! Thank God you’re safe ! ” 

The boat came tearing up, and Lieutenant Caldwell 
leaped aboard. 

“ Well, you’ve done it, Decatur ! God bless you ! ” 
he cried, as he sprang aft and put out his hand. 

“Yes, the old ship is on her way to glory,” an- 
swered Decatur, with a laugh. As they shook hands 
he added, in a different tone : “ And the best of it all 
is 1 haven’t lost a man. Only one was wounded.” 

“ Splendid ! ” cried Caldwell, enthusiastically. “ It 
was a great thing, and the country will say so. That 
means Captain Decatur, as sure as the news gets 
there. But look at the old ship ! Isn’t she dying in 
glory, as you say ? ” 

They both broke off talking, and for several min- 
utes soberly watched the impressive sight. The hull 
was long since a sheet of fire, and the spars and 
rigging were now going. The masts were already 
tongued off with flame, as though they had been so 
many gigantic torches, and the shrouds and other 
rigging were outlined in a fiery filigree of almost 


124 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


unearthly pattern. The light from the whole was so 
strong that, even at this distance, it brought out the 
white walls of the city and made it possible to distin- 
guish the bulk of the castle and of some of the other 
large buildings. 

The two officers could not seem to turn away from 
the sight, and the Mastico lay with her head to the 
wind, and the smaller boat with most of her oars out 
of the water, till the end came. All in a moment a 
mast fell, a starry shower of sparks rose, and the 
next second the whole glowing mass flew toward all 
quarters of the heavens. As the heavy, muffled 
boom died away, Decatur quickly put up his helm 
and let his sails fill. 

“That is the end of her, Caldwell,” he observed, 
“and I suppose Bainbridge is feeling happy.” 

Caldwell laughed, and got up to board his own 
boat. 

“ No doubt. Pity that we couldn’t get him out of 
that hole, though, and back with us,” he answered. 
“ However, that’ll come in good time.” 

He hailed his men, and jumped into the stern- 
sheets of the boat, as they brought her close. 

The Siren was now bearing down on them, and 
Decatur shortened sail and made ready to board. 
He knew that nothing short of a full-length account 
of what had happened would satisfy the anxious and 
eager Stewart. Lieutenant Caldwell, with the Sirens 
boat, kept up with the Mastico , and both were soon 
exchanging hails with Stewart. 

When Decatur had at last finished his story, and 


MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. 125 

was back on the ATastico, he ordered all sail made, 
and laid his course for Syracuse^ Stewart followed 
his example, shortening his canvas so as not to out- 
run the ketch, and the two vessels stood away in 
company. They reached Syracuse without delay or 
accident, and were received with the praises and con- 
gratulations that they had a right to expect. Captain 
Preble gave a reception on the flag-ship, and the men 
were given an extra allowance of grog, — after the 
custom of those days, — and allowed a half-holiday. 
The King of Sicily, who had all along been friendly 
to the United States, sent his congratulations, and 
ordered the royal band to play American airs. 

Paul Woods, with his father and the men of the 
old crew, passed the half-holiday together, by special 
permission all receiving shore-leave. It is almost 
needless to say that they returned on board sober, 
for the old captain and Paul were always temperate, 
and the men would not disgrace themselves and 
bring censure on those who had been the means of 
giving them such a pleasure. For that matter, it 
might also be said that the three sailors were light im- 
bibers for those days, never taking more liquor aboard 
than they could Carry off, and never coming over the 
side of a ship when they needed help to find their 
quarters. 

There was now another period of quiet with the 
fleet, for the prevailing winds off the North African 
coast were unfavourable for effective operations, and 
it was Preble’s policy to strike hard or not at all. 
The little that was left of the winter and the spring 


126 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


went by, and it was the beginning of summer before 
the patient commander was prepared to start. The 
ships and all their fittings and the armament had 
been thoroughly overhauled, and everything was in 
excellent shape. Notwithstanding the long inaction, 
the health of the men had not suffered. They had 
a wise as well as humane commander, who looked 
after them with indefatigable care. He had made 
them box, row, swim, had sent them ashore at times 
for leg-exercise and to break the mental monotony, 
and had seen that they were provided with a proper 
variety of food. Though the visits of the men ashore 
were what might be called in the phraseology of our 
day “personally conducted,” since officers in suf- 
ficient numbers to keep them in order went along, 
yet there was some little liberty allowed, and a few 
departures from rules judiciously winked at. Now 
and then a day of ordinary shore-leave was granted, 
but this usually ended in a way not creditable to the 
pleasure-loving tars, and brought them more head- 
aches than health and after- satisfaction. As for 
Captain Woods and Paul, they had a good time in 
a sensible way, improved their health, and got the 
worth of their money. One of the most satis- 
factory of their pleasures was taking long walks 
and visiting places of historic interest, and another 
was attending the theatres and concerts. 

Everything being now ready for a start, the 
commander flew his signal, and immediately every 
vessel made sail, and all started out to sea. The 
King of the Two Sicilies (to give him his exact 


MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. 127 

title) had loaned Captain Preble a few gunboats, 
and the captain had bought several more, so that 
he now had in all eight auxiliary vessels. Two 
were especially designed for shoal-water work, and 
as they were mounted only with mortars were 
called bomb-boats. The entire fleet, besides these 
new acquisitions, now consisted of seven vessels, 
one of which was a frigate and the others brigs 
and schooners. These other vessels were com- 
manded by men of exceptional ability, and some 
of them afterward made a name for themselves. 
Thus the Siren was commanded by Lieut. Charles 
Stewart, the Enterprise by Lieutenant Decatur, 
and the Nautilus by Lieut. Richard Somers. The 
strength of the entire fleet, if measured in men 
and guns, and allowing for the advantage that 
shore defences give, was considerably less than 
the whole power of the Tripolitans. Captain 
Preble had about 1,060 men, and his ships 
mounted a total of 134 guns. The bashaw had, 
it was estimated, about twenty-five thousand Moors 
and Turks, and his ships and fortifications were 
defended by about two hundred guns. The shore 
works, including the castle, were said to mount 
1 15 guns, all of large calibre. None of the fleet’s 
guns, except those on the Constitution , were larger 
than 24-pounders, and the frigate herself carried 
none larger than 32’s. These last, however, were 
pretty heavy pieces for those days. 

On July 25th the fleet was in sight of Tripoli, 
and once more blockaded the harbour. There was 


128 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


some bad weather threatening, but it was thought 
unlikely to continue more than a few days, and as 
soon as it was over it was the plan to attack. Finally, 
on August 3d, the sky cleared, everything was fa- 
vourable, and the fleet started into the harbour. 
The six gunboats and two bomb-boats were sent 
around by the way of the eastern passage, and it was 
arranged that they should begin the attack. Lieut. 
Stephen Decatur commanded one, his brother James 
another, and Sailing-Master John Trippe a third. The 
other five were in good hands, but, with one exception, 
were not destined to figure in the fight. This excep- 
tion was the boat commanded by the gallant Lieuten- 
ant Somers. The eight little vessels laid their course 
to the east, and in a short time were off the passage. 
Here a streak of bad luck overtook them, for the 
wind partly shifted, and the two bomb-boats and 
three of the others were unable to weather the 
outward point. Seeing how this was, but under- 
standing that there must be no delay, the com- 
manders of the other three craft pluckily kept on 
and headed for the first division of the bashaw’s fleet. 
This consisted of nine gunboats, all heavily armed, 
and sailing in close fighting formation. Stephen 
Decatur’s boat, which went by its number, 4, 
finally picked out one of the gunboats, James 
Decatur’s boat (numbered 2) took the next, and 
Sailing-Master Trippe, commanding gunboat number 
6, eased sheets a little and made at a third. This 
last was the largest and most strongly manned of 
the gunboat division. As yet the Constitution and 


MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. 1 29 

the other heavy craft were a little too far off for 
action, and the bashaw had not advanced any of 
his large vessels. It may be as well to say here 
that he did not advance them, but kept them at 
their inshore anchorage, where they were close 
under the castle and shore batteries. 

Now Paul Woods was on board one of these auda- 
cious Yankee boats. He knew that they would be 
likely to see sharp work, and the thought stirred 
his fighting spirit and made him long to join. Very 
probably, too, since human nature is weak, he felt a 
little revengeful, and wanted to do something to wipe 
out old scores. At any rate, he had asked to join 
the party, and Captain Preble had consented. The 
veteran liked Paul and was willing to grant him a 
favour, and then he doubtless took into consideration 
the peculiar circumstances of the case and how the 
young man must be moved. While he was about it 
Paul had asked to be assigned to Stephen Decatur’s 
boat, and this was granted, so that he was again ship- 
mate with Reuben James and others of that famous 
fighting set. Decatur himself was glad to have such 
a sturdy, resolute fellow along, and nodded at him 
kindly as Paul saluted on his way aboard. In fact, 
Paul was now an accession to any company of men 
that had hard and desperate work on hand. In the 
year and a quarter since the capture of the barque 
he had increased in weight and strength, and had 
not lost in quickness, and his new training had 
taught him how to use all his powers to advantage. 
He stood among the first on the ship in cutlass work, 


30 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


his shooting was well above the average, and in the 
boxing practice he had thus far outpointed any man 
who had been opposed to him. Of course this fistic 
work was conducted under set rules, and no “ slug- 
ging,” as the modern ring phrase has it, was allowed ; 
but it afforded, nevertheless, a good opportunity to 
see what a man was made of. Privately there was 
more or less fist fighting on board, and it was pretty 
well understood who the able ones were, but Paul 
never coveted any reputation of this sort. On 
the contrary, he rarely boxed outside of the regular 
drill, guessing what it might lead to, and the fighting 
circle — which it must be confessed was pretty large 
— never went to measurable lengths in urging him 
to try for pugilistic honours. As for the bullies 
aboard, of whom there were a few, they did not 
quite relish the job of forcing a fight upon the 
quiet young fellow, not liking, after a little inspec- 
tion, his build, quickness, the skill he had already 
shown, and, more than all, something in the look 
of his clear and well-opened eyes. 

So that Paul was now fit to make one of this 
rather desperate crew, and was not out of his class 
when he sat down with the veterans of the French 
war, including Reuben James. 

The nine gunboats, as the three Americans bore 
down, did not at once open fire, but came to a par- 
tial luff, and seemed to be manoeuvring to secure a 
raking position. 

“ At the helm, there ! ” sang out Stephen De- 
catur as the broadsides of the gunboats began to 


MAKING THE BASHAW UNCOMFORTABLE. I 3 I 

show. “ Let her off a bit ! Ready with the 
sweeps ! ” 

The boat swung a little, giving her oblique side, 
instead of her bows, to the rows of guns, and con- 
tinued to boil ahead. James Decatur and Mr. 
Trippe also swerved a little from their direct course. 

“ At the halyards ! ” sang out the lieutenant, a 
moment later. “ Stand by ! Let go all ! Give way 
with the sweeps ! ” 

The sails dropped, and the huge oars shot out and 
gripped the water. 

“ Helm there ! Lay her straight for that boat ! ” 
next roared the lieutenant. 

“ Straight it is, sir,” was the steady answer. It 
was Reuben James who spoke. He was now a regu- 
larly appointed coxswain. 

Paul was one of those at the sweeps, and for a 
moment he tugged away without looking behind him. 
Then there was a thunder of sound as the Tripolitans 
at last opened fire, and the spray from a passing shot 
sprinkled his face. 

The smoke rose up ahead, and such a glimpse as 
the rowers had time to catch showed nothing clear, 
and with that Decatur was urging them on again. 

It seemed now that it was about time to open with 
their own gun, for the feeling of those at the oars 
was that they must soon crash into the other boat, 
but still Decatur did not speak. 

It was possible, at this point, to get a side-look at 
the other Decatur’s boat, — that being on the star- 
board hand. — and Paul found that it had swuruz 


132 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


toward the middle of the harbour, and was about 
closing in with a craft that seemed to have broken 
from the enemy’s left wing. Just then a heavy re- 
port on the left, followed by an American cheer, 
showed that Trippe had begun his work, but imme- 
diately a cloud of smoke drove in from that direction 
and again blanketed the view. 

“ At the gun ! ” called out Decatur, the next 
moment. “ Wait till the smoke lifts, and fire ! ” 

The delay was short. The target was so near 
that the gunner probably caught a glimpse through 
the rent of the cloud, and let go. As the din died 
away Decatur took a step to the rail and drew his 
sword. 

Yells and groans now began to come out of the 
thickness, and something made a sharp splashing in 
the water. 

“ Lively there ! They are trying to run away ! ” 
roared Decatur. “ Put your backs into it. Now you 
go!” 

The men rowed like fiends. 

“ ’Vast ! ” shouted Decatur, after not more than 
half a minute. “ You have them. Unship oars ! 
Boarders away ! ” 

There was a hard bump and a little recoil of the 
boat, followed by a sudden bringing up, and it was 
evident that they were fast. Paul subdued a sudden 
impulse to shout, and with his cutlass in one hand 
and his pistol in the other joined in the pack with 
his mates, and jumped with them to the other vessel’s 
deck. 


CHAPTER X. 


SOME EARNEST WORK. 

B UT the nerving up that Paul did was hardly 
necessary. Two or three of the men who were 
ahead exchanged a slash or two with a few of the 
enemy, and one or two shots were fired. That was 
all that went with so much of the work. The Tri- 
politans, apparently astonished and dismayed, rushed 
into the bows of their vessel, and from there began 
to jump overboard. Only five remained behind, and 
two because they were dead and the other three from 
disabling wounds. It was quickly seen that only one 
of the boarding party was hurt, and he not seriously. 

“This was almost too easy,” said Decatur, laugh- 
ing, as the result of the little brush became apparent. 
“Put those fellows on our boat,” he added, “and 
then scuttle this craft. We have other work to do.” 

Just as he spoke the smoke that had been drifting 
about them lifted, and they saw what was passing 
immediately around. James Decatur and Mr. Trippe 
seemed to have carried two more of the fleet, and 
the other six were digging in their sweeps apparently 
in the effort to get away. 

“ I wish they would put up a little more of a 
133 


134 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


fight,” said a sailor near Paul. “ This ain’t what you 
could call excitin’.” 

“They don’t always do so,” said an older sailor. 
“ I’ve known ’em to — ” 

“ All hands abandon ship ! ” broke in Decatur’s 
voice at this point. “ Look alive ! Drop everything ! ” 

Paul jumped back to the deck of the other boat, 
quickly followed by the rest of the crew. Decatur 
came last, and Paul now saw him lay aside a pocket 
spy-glass. 

“Ship sweeps!” sang out the lieutenant, once 
more. “ Give way ! At the helm ! Lay her straight 
for my brother’s boat.” 

“ Straight it is, sir,” answered Reuben James. 

Paul was steadily tugging at his oar, but he now 
found a chance to sweep a look ahead. He at once 
saw that something not just understandable was 
going on. The nearest of the enemy’s boats was 
the one that James Decatur’s party had attacked 
and seemingly carried. Now she appeared to be 
backing off, and there was evident confusion on the 
American craft. 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if those scamps had played 
some kind of a treacherous trick,” thought Paul. 

He bent steadily to his work, and they came 
rapidly up with the lagging boat. 

“ What is wrong ? ” asked Decatur of a man who 
at the moment rushed to the side. 

The young fellow, who by his dress was a mid- 
shipman, ripped out an oath and pointed toward the 
escaping boat. 


SOME EARNEST WORK. 


135 


“ They’ve killed your brother, sir ! ” he shouted. 
“ The captain — that fellow with a red turban — shot 
him. The villain had just surrendered, and sent a 
man to haul down his flag.” 

For a second Decatur stood like a statue. 

“This is sad news,” he then said, but in a steady 
voice. He threw a glance after the corsair, which 
was now digging in her sweeps energetically, and 
went on : “I have more oars than you, and my boat 
is lighter. Please cruise about and do any good you 
can, and I will try to overhaul that fellow. Now, 
men, give way with a will ! ” 

The indignant fellows needed no spur, and bowed 
as one man over the long and powerful oars. 

The chase now had something of a start, but she 
seemed heavy, and responded rather sluggishly to 
the efforts at the oars. 

The powerful and angry sailors continued to lift 
their lighter craft with long slides ahead, and in not 
more than ten minutes it was grinding against the 
gunboat’s quarter. There was no thought of a pre- 
cise arrangement of attack, or of anything except a 
furious and headlong bolt of it over the rail and into 
the confused crowd. Paul thought for an instant what 
a desperate piece of work it was, for the gunboat’s 
crew outnumbered theirs three to one, and the cap- 
tain would doubtless make a fierce defence, but the 
thought was hardly in his head before it was out 
again, and he was ready, cutlass in hand. 

Decatur had, of course, gone first, and Midshipman 
Thorn was at his heels. Mr. Macdonough came next, 


I36 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

and after them poured the whole eager crew. Paul 
Woods was somewhat in the rear, as his place at the 
sweeps had been astern, and he had to wait till those 
ahead of him were out of the way. Reuben James 
alone found his way through the jam at the rail, 
using his shoulders, and sometimes his rank as cox- 
swain, to effect his purpose. Be near Decatur he 
would. 

As soon as Paul was aboard he saw that he could 
do nothing at present, for the boarding party num- 
bered over twenty, and the waist of the little craft 
was already full. He therefore fell back a step to 
the poop, thinking that here at least he could tell 
what was going on, and would be ready to give in- 
telligent help when it should be needed. Another of 
the boarders saw the good sense of this plan, and 
jumped back upon the poop with him. From here 
the two men could watch the wild mass below, and 
stand ready to take their turn. 

Decatur for once had thrown over all thought of 
discipline or generalship, and slashed his way into 
the line of defenders. It was clear what was in 
his mind, and that the man in the red turban must 
look out for himself and fight his ablest, if the two 
met. 

As the gap was left in the advancing line, a half- 
naked Moor saw his opportunity, and, with a spring 
and a side-cut, sent the left hand of Reuben James 
helpless to his side. Then, as the men on Reuben’s 
left turned to repay the blow, the Moor ducked and 
scuttled back to his place. At the other end of the 


SOME EARNEST WORK. 


137 


line one of the big Americans had cut down the 
Moor opposed to him, and was crowding fiercely 
upon the next, and the sailor immediately upon the 
left had shot the man directly before him. All this 
was in the moment or two that followed Decatur’s 
breaking away from his line. 

Paul Woods now steadied himself and got his 
bearings, and forthwith discovered what he and his 
companion ought to do. 

“We can put a couple of bullets among those 
fellows,” he said, “and I don’t believe we shall get 
a chance to do a much better job.” 

This was true enough. Their position made it 
possible to fire over the heads of their mates and 
lodge a couple of balls in the closely packed gang 
beyond. 

“ That’s so. Let ’em have it, then ! ” answered 
the sailor ; and the two long tubes went up and 
banged in one report. 

Two Moors to the right of Decatur staggered and 
went down. 

“Well done ! ” cried Paul, joyfully. “We are not 
left out of the performance ! ” 

“ No, and — hello ! they’ve used up Reuben ! ” 
answered the man. 

In fact, poor James at that moment took a step 
back and let fall his cutlass. 

“ Come on and fill up the gap ! ” shouted Paul. 

Without waiting to see whether the man acted on 
the suggestion or not, he sprang off the little deck 
and rushed to where the disabled coxswain was still 


138 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

standing. The sturdy fellow seemed to have no idea 
of falling out of the fight, though both arms hung 
down helplessly and fairly dripped blood. 

“ Fall back, Reuben, and give me your place ! ” 
shouted Paul, in the plucky fighter’s ear. 

Reuben looked around, and his eye lighted as he 
saw who it was. 

“ All right ! ” he grunted. “ Go ahead ! ” 

He backed past Paul, and seemed to turn, as though 
to make his way aft. But in that same instant he 
paused and gave a bull-like roar. With a wild swing 
of his wounded arms he was in the line again and 
plunging headlong upon the Moor directly in front 
of him. It was literally headlong, for there was no 
other way in which the desperate fellow could make 
an assault, and as a matter of fact his head struck the 
surprised Moor in the face and sent him sprawling 
upon his back. Reuben was over him with a bound, 
and then, with a side-swing and a kind of lurch, he 
plunged directly across the track of another man who 
was at the same moment taking a leap forward. 

Paul saw and understood it all in an instant. 
Decatur had at last fought his way to the big cap- 
tain, and the two were just locking together. The 
Turk had been fighting with a spear, and had man- 
aged to wound Decatur with it, and the lieutenant 
had parried another lunge, and in doing so had 
broken his sword. He had then jumped in and 
gripped the spear and tried to twist it out of the 
Turk’s hands. Just here a short Moor, who seemed 
to be a petty officer, pushed his way along, and as 


SOME EARNEST WORK. 


39 


Decatur seized the spear he stepped into the little 
open space at the left and raised his yataghan. It 
was this sight that had caught the eye of Reuben 
James, and sent him in that headlong rush to the 
side of his chief. 

But he would have been too late, for the weapon 
was already flashing to fall, when something took 
place in the fight itself that postponed the conclusion. 
Decatur was a strong man, but the Turk was stronger, 
and was wrenching and twisting at the spear in a way 
to break the lighter man’s hold. Seeing this, the 
lieutenant suddenly stepped closer, brought his breast 
to the handle of the spear, and, with a neat cross-toe 
trip, sent the Turk’s legs from under him and brought 
him with a thump to the deck. The fall was so 
abrupt, and he was so heavy, that he jerked Decatur 
down with him, and for a moment the lieutenant lay 
across his breast. Here was the short Moor’s oppor- 
tunity, and with another step he raised the yataghan 
again, and this time brought it down. 

But not on Decatur’s head. Reuben James was 
now within a stride, and with a rush he shouldered 
the Moor back and ducked forward his own head. 
The full force of the blow was broken, but still it 
seemed to cut through the skull of the indomitable 
sailor, and he fell like a log to the deck. 

Meanwhile Decatur and the Turk had lain in a 
desperate hug, the spear between them, till the big 
man had made a sudden and mighty effort and rolled 
the lieutenant over. His red turban had now fallen 
off, and, in that instant, Paul Woods caught a fair 


140 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


glimpse of his face. He had already made a guess, 
and now he saw that it was right, for the man was 
Ali Hazed. 

There was no one now directly in front of Paul, 
though a Moor was pressing in from the right, and 
through the gap thus made the young man saw the 
conclusion of the desperate duel. 

As the Turk came uppermost and raised his head, 
Decatur put his hand to his belt and, quick as 
thought, pulled out a pistol. Ali Hazed had dropped 
the spear, which still lay across Decatur’s breast, 
and was feeling for the shorter of his two yataghans. 
He had not seemed to notice Decatur’s motions, and 
clapped his hand around to his right hip, where the 
short yataghan hung, and drew it. He lifted his 
arm, but his left hand was suddenly gripped, and, 
before he could have understood what happened, the 
pistol-barrel was almost touching his face and the 
trigger was pulled. The flint and the powder in 
the pan did their duty, and with the bang Ali Hazed 
dropped his head, and rolled inert over upon the 
deck. 

The whole thing had lasted but a few seconds, and, 
except as Reuben James had made his desperate 
effort, there had been no chance for interference. 

As Decatur cleared himself fully from his dead 
adversary and jumped to his feet, his men set up a 
shout, and, with a rush, broke forward and sent 
the now dismayed enemy in a huddle toward the 
bows. 

As Paul afterward learned, the Tripolitans almost 


SOME EARNEST WORK. 


14 


always lost heart on the fall of a leader, and generally 
could be scattered by a single resolute charge. 

Decatur understood this, and perhaps if he had not 
it would have made no difference. He took two or 
three good breaths, picked up a cutlass, and pointed 
significantly toward the huddled-up gang. A roar 
from the little company was the answer, and away 
they all went again, one or two laughing fiercely 
in their excitement. 

It was not in a discouraged Asiatic to stand such a 
rush. First two or three nearest the bows suddenly 
plumped off into the water, and then the faint pre- 
tence of a defensive line broke, and every man was 
throwing down his weapons and leaping for the rails. 

In less than two minutes the little that remained 
of the fighting was over, and the vessel was cleared 
of the last living corsair. Come to take a breath, now, 
and see how things had gone, it was found that there 
were eleven dead Tripolitans on board, and only one 
dead American, — Reuben James. Ten others were 
slightly wounded. 

“ Go below and get something to wrap poor James 
in and lay him down aft,” ordered Decatur, as soon 
as these facts were ascertained. “ The rest of you 
man the sweeps.” 

Decatur himself went to the helm, and in a few 
minutes the vessel was moving out of danger and 
toward the mouth of the harbour. 

“ Now man the halyards and see everything clear,” 
went on the lieutenant. “ Set all sail. Haul down 
that red rag, and bend on our colours.” 


142 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“If you please, sir,” spoke up Paul, “I think our 
colours were left in the boat. She drifted away, as 
nobody stayed in her.” 

“ My fault,” said Decatur, and slightly smiled. “ I 
don’t know who would have been willing to stay,” he 
added, significantly. “Well, haul down the other 
flag and let it go at that.” 

It was now possible to look around and see how the 
other vessels had fared. Of course, the chief concern 
was for the gunboats, but a little peering through the 
smoke showed both still afloat. 

“Yes, and Trippe has carried that big gunboat ! ” 
exclaimed Decatur, after a moment. “ She’s sailing 
in his wake and flying her colours ! Well done, 
Trippe ! ” 

All hands broke out in a cheer, which relieved their 
feelings, as well as expressed admiration for Trippe’ s 
gallantry. 

Trying next to make out what the big vessels were 
doing, the party found that all were as far inside the 
harbour as the shoal water and the heavy guns on 
shore rendered prudent, and that all were keeping up 
a steady, though not very rapid, fire. They seemed 
to be aiming chiefly at the batteries and the castle, 
with now and then a crack at the town itself and at 
the anchored fleet. They appeared to do some 
execution, such as shooting away several spars on a 
schooner, and demolishing a part of a battery, but in 
general the range was too great for very destructive 
work. The batteries and the guns in the castle were 
returning the fire at intervals, but in a kind of listless 



“THE BIG VESSELS, ALL WERE FAR INSIDE THE HARBOUR 

AND KEEPING UP A STEADY FIRE.' 1 




































































































































■ 

. 
































SOME EARNEST WORK. 


143 


and half-hearted way. So far, their shooting appeared 
to be poor, and to have done little or no execution. 

“We can’t seem to accomplish anything more,” 
said Decatur, after a short investigation of the state 
of things ; “ and we’ll stand out a piece, and heave 
to. You’ve all done well, boys, and have held up 
the credit of the flag ! ” 

The men acknowledged this by a little gratified 
murmur, and a few “Thank you, sirs.” Decatur then 
gave Paul Woods the helm, and started to go below. 
He had till now been too busy to quit the deck, but 
apparently concluded that it was time to get a 
thorough knowledge of what was aboard. He 
started now down the little cabin companion, but 
all at once stopped. 

“ Where is Reuben’s body ? ” he gently asked. “ I 
don’t see it.” 

There was a stir among the men gathered just 
forward of the poop, and, as a singular answer to 
the question, a man with his sleeves rolled up, and 
bareheaded, elbowed his way through. 

“ Mr. Decatur, sir, Reuben ain’t dead ! ” he burst 
out. “ We was going to take him aft, to carry out 
orders, when he drawed a little breath. Won’t you 
step this way and look at him, sir ? ” 

Decatur’s face expressed his surprise and pleasure, 
and he motioned the man aside, and hastily pushed 
through the crowd to where the reviving sailor was 
lying. Paul could not see what was done there, as 
the throng of men cut off his view, but in a few 
minutes Decatur returned. 


144 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ Yes, there’s a chance for him,” he said, in answer 
to the many looks of inquiry, “ but he must be taken 
at once to a surgeon. Woods, lay her for the Con- 
stitution. Some of you haul in a little on the 
sheets! ” 

There was now a decided ripple of excitement run- 
ning around, for besides that Reuben was a favourite 
aboard, and would have been decidedly missed, his 
astonishing revival took all hands by surprise. 

It was not a long run to where the gallant old 
frigate was slowly tacking about, her guns occasion- 
ally roaring, and in a short time Decatur was able 
to make known his errand, and have Reuben taken 
aboard. 

As soon as this was done, Decatur having also im- 
proved the time to make a brief report to Captain 
Preble, the gunboat made sail again, and by Preble’s 
order passed outside the harbour. 

“ We shall all soon follow,” he had said to Decatur. 

“ I guess we have made a fair beginning, and let 
those fellows know what to expect.” 

In fact, the frigate, and then the smaller vessels, 
soon did cease firing, and shortly afterward they 
eased sheets and braces, and passed in leisurely 
succession out of the harbour. So ended the first 
day of the long-talked-of close fighting. 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE TRAGEDY OF THE INTREPID. 

HERE was now an opportunity to find out with 



J- definiteness what had been accomplished, and 
what damage had been sustained. It was soon 
learned that poor James Decatur was the only 
American killed, and but thirteen had been wounded. 
The vessels were not materially injured, and all 
damages were more than offset by the capture of 
the bashaw’s largest gunboat. This was the one 
taken by Sailing Master Trippe, and was carried 
only after the most desperate fighting. The gallant 
officer himself was severely wounded. Another fea- 
ture of the fight was the brilliant defence by Lieut. 
Richard Somers. He found himself unable to enter 
the harbour, owing to the baffling of the wind and 
the long projection of a reef, and, while trying to 
work his way in by another (the leeward) passage, he 
was met and attacked by five Tripolitan gunboats. 
He stood them all off successfully till help came. 
Still another good bit of work was that of Midship- 
man Robert T. Spence. The little craft that he was 
at the time commanding was struck by a heavy shot, 
and the magazine exploded. The bottom of the boat 
was nearly blown out, but Spence, though unable to 


I46 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

swim, stuck to her till the water was above his ankles, 
and fired a final gun just as she dropped away under 
him. He clung to an oar, and in a few minutes was 
rescued. 

Getting what further information was to be had, 
it was learned that three Tripolitan gunboats were 
sunk, a number of their crews shot or drowned, and 
several of the town’s people killed. It was also 
learned that a few of the guns in the shore batteries 
were dismounted, and the bashaw’s castle slightly 
damaged. It afterward came out that the bashaw; 
himself was pretty thoroughly scared, and fled for 
safety to a bomb-proof chamber. 

A little rest was now taken, and blockade duty 
was resumed. It was understood, however, that a 
second general attack was soon to be made. This 
proved to be the case, and on August 7th the fleet 
again entered the harbour. This time, however, 
things went more unfavourably than before, for the 
wind hauled around, and blew in gusts offshore, and 
after awhile Preble concluded to withdraw. The 
principal damage that he was able to do was to dis- 
mount some more of the shore guns, and kill a few 
of the men that manned them. He also demolished 
some buildings in the town. The third attack was 
now planned, but in the meantime something new 
and interesting happened. The frigate John Adams , 
commanded by Captain Isaac Chancy, arrived, and 
brought a small reinforcement of men and some 
agreeable new r s. The President and Congress had 
been pleased with the work of the fleet, and several 


THE TRAGEDY OF THE INTREPID. 


47 


of the principal officers had been promoted. Thus 
Decatur had been made captain, and Lieutenants 
Stewart, Hull, Smith, and Somers, masters-command- 
ant. It was also learned that four more frigates 
would soon arrive, and that this meant the return 
home of Captain Preble, for Captain Barron, who 
would be in command of the new fleet, was to suc- 
ceed him. This piece of news was not so acceptable 
to the most of the officers and men as the former, for 
Preble was well liked, notwithstanding his martinet 
ways, though no objections were made to Captain 
Barron. He had the name of being a good officer. 
It was understood, in this connection, that Preble’s 
resignation was voluntary, and was mainly on account 
of impaired health. 

But two weeks passed and Barron did not appear, 
and Preble then had a consultation with his captains 
and prepared to resume the work on his own account. 
The John Adams could not help much, as she had 
left her gun-carriages to come by the other ships, 
but the rest of the fleet was in its usual fit shape. 
Unfortunately, the wind was again adverse, and a 
number of the shells used proved to be poor, and 
only a little was apparently effected. Preble was 
not satisfied, and at once prepared for the fourth 
attack, but just at this point something encouraging 
happened. The bashaw had gradually lost heart, 
under the persistent targeting, and as the fleet was 
about to head again for the harbour he sent a flag of 
truce and accompanied it with an offer of peace. The 
conditions were for a large sum to be paid him out- 


I48 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

right, and a certain amount more for the ransom of 
the prisoners. If these terms were granted, he would 
give up further claims on the United States, and 
would make no more seizures of American vessels. 
Preble briefly considered the terms, but they were 
clearly too high, and he rejected them. He then 
made his fourth attack. This time the conditions 
were more favourable, and a number of the men on 
the galleys and gunboats were killed and one galley 
sunk. Also several shells were thrown into the town 
and some large buildings destroyed. The Constitution 
led and did most of the work, getting closer in than 
in any previous attacks, and bringing the most of 
her guns to bear. Paul Woods was stationed at a 
forward 24-pounder, and did what was required of 
him promptly and well, and had the satisfaction of 
seeing his gun accomplish as much as any one other. 
The Tripolitans were by this time considerably cowed 
as well as dismayed, and their firing was wilder and 
less effective than in any of the other fights. 

Time went by till September 3d, and still Barron 
did not come, and Preble led the fleet in one more 
attack. The bashaw had now scattered his vessels 
somewhat, and had put them all under the protection 
of his heaviest guns, and had sent the crews of his 
small pieces under cover. Owing to these precau- 
tions, and partly on account of unfavourable winds, 
the attack was not particularly successful, though still 
some damage was done. By this time it was apparent 
that considerable impression had been made upon the 
bashaw, but still that bringing him to reasonable 


THE TRAGEDY OF THE INTREPID. 


149 


terms was probably a good way off. Captain Preble 
was a little undecided as to what should next be done, 
for the regular attacks were not effecting what was 
desirable, and finally he summoned the captains of 
the other ships and asked their advice. He wished, 
he explained, to inflict some sudden and sharp blow, 
and give the bashaw new cause for worriment. 
To phrase it in the language of the official report, 
he was “ desirous of annoying the enemy by all 
means.’ * 

There were various opinions offered, and two or 
three plans proposed, and at last it was suggested 
that a fire-ship be sent in. The Intrepid would do 
for this purpose, and a crew could easily be found to 
man her. This plan was at once thought feasible 
and was immediately decided on. It was forthwith 
made known to the other officers and to the crews, 
and volunteers were called for. Nearly everybody 
stepped forward, and it was only after some discus- 
sion and considerable feeling that the required number 
was chosen. It was decided that twenty would be 
amply enough, and this complement was afterward 
reduced to twelve. Master-Commandant Richard 
Somers was given the dangerous honour of the com- 
mand, and Midshipman Henry Wadsworth was made 
second. Of course a number of officers as brave as 
those chosen were left out, and the same could be 
said of scores of the sailors. Still, it was simply a 
case where all could not go, and those in authority 
believed that they had made their selections wisely. 
Among those left out, and thus disappointed, was 


150 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

Paul Woods, and it also happened that none of the 
other men of the barque were chosen. 

The next thing was to fit out the ketch, and this 
was quickly done. A hundred barrels of powder 
were poured loose into a bin amidships, and to this 
were added 150 fixed shells and a quantity of old' 
iron. A pipe was put in, leading from the bin to 
the main cabin, and in this was laid a fuse, regulated 
to burn fifteen minutes. The cabin was piled up 
with combustibles, and when these were set on fire 
it was thought that it would be too late for an enemy 
to interfere, and that the explosion must follow. To 
enable the crew to escape, two light boats were taken 
in tow. Everything was handled with such despatch 
that the little craft was ready by the next evening, 
which was only the second after the last engagement. 

As the time approached, both those who were to 
go and those who were to remain grew serious, for 
it was clear that it was to be a desperate piece of 
work. The Tripolitans had been warned by the 
Philadelphia incident, and also had learned generally 
that they must be unceasingly watchful against such 
daring enemies, and there was little likelihood of 
effecting more than a partial surprise. 

Both Mr. Somers and Mr. Wadsworth, though they 
evidently realised clearly what they had undertaken, 
were as resolute as at first, and neither said anything 
that betrayed any doubt of the success of the venture. 
Yet when the time was at last close at hand, Mr. 
Somers quietly sought Lieutenant Decatur and Lieut. 
Charles Stewart, two of his particular friends, and 


THE TRAGEDY OF THE INTREPID. 1 5 I 

handed each a third of a gold ring. He put the 
other piece in his pocket. Both officers instantly 
understood, and both were deeply affected. Some- 
how, as several of the sailors afterward declared, 
there was a kind of feeling of dread and gloom about 
this undertaking that nobody had felt at the time of 
the former one. “ Perhaps,” as one of them re- 
marked, “it was because we knew Mr. Somers had 
said that he would not be taken alive, and we felt 
sure that he would keep his word.” 

Among the ten men of the crew, the same realisa- 
tion of what they had undertaken was apparent. 
They made verbal wills, disposing of their effects, 
and sent messages to friends. Still, not a man of 
them flinched. 

Finally, the last preparation was made, and the 
twelve began to leave the Constitution s deck for the 
ketch. Somers and Wadsworth had passed ahead 
and the men were following when a little outcry 
arose. A stowaway had been found. Midshipman 
Joseph Israel had hidden himself under the forward 
deck. He had already pleaded to go, but in vain, 
and had perseveringly made this final effort. 

“Let him stay, since he thinks so much of it,” 
finally decided Captain Preble. The firm lines of 
the veteran’s face seemed to relax as he spoke. 
“That is,” he qualified, looking toward Mr. Somers, 
“if it is agreeable to you, sir.” 

“ Oh, he may as well stay, sir,” answered the 
lieutenant, carelessly. “One more will make no 
difference.” 


152 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


The persevering middy jumped up and slapped his 
leg delightedly. At that moment he was envied by 
more than one man on the ship. 

Everything was now ready, and the line that was 
fast to the Constitution was cast off, and sail was 
made. Somers had personally taken the helm, and 
as the ketch stood away he turned in his place and 
swung his cap. The company along the quarter 
and the throng at the hammock nettings heartily an- 
swered, and several of the officers shouted, “Good 
luck ! ” As the ketch passed near some of the other 
vessels, and especially as she crossed the wake of 
Somers’s own ship, the affectionate demonstrations 
broke out afresh. Somers waved his cap again, and 
his men joined in a cheerful shout, and so the little 
craft passed out of hail. 

Paul Woods and his father had sometime since 
posted themselves in the lee fore-shrouds, and as the 
ketch drew away they exchanged a few encouraging 
words, — for they tried to shake off the influence 
of the general depression, — and squared about to 
watch the desperate craft go on. There was a thin 
haze on the water, but it was clear above, and the 
white of the little craft’s sail could be followed as it 
blew steadily up the harbour. Preble was anxious to 
watch the adventurers as long as possible, and 
likewise to go to their assistance, if that were 
needed and could be done, and he ran his ship 
in as close as he dared, and tacked past the 
throat of the harbour itself. Some of the lighter 
vessels were even nearer, the Nautilus , particularly, 


THE TRAGEDY OF THE INTREPID. 


153 


which had pushed boldly by the first of the out- 
lying reefs. 

The anxious watch continued, and at last the white 
speck of the Intrepid's sail began to lose its identity 
against the dusky huddle of the Tripolitans’ ships. It 
was the plan that Somers should make for the nearest 
bunch of these vessels, paying no attention to their 
size and importance, and should touch off his train at 
the earliest practicable moment, and then take in- 
stantly to his boats. Preble especially enjoined upon 
him to conduct the venture with the least possible 
risk, and in case he got into a tight place he was to 
surrender. But Somers had received these orders in 
silence, and it was said that when he was again among 
the other officers he had repeated his former decla- 
ration, that he would never be taken alive, and that 
he would return successful or not at all. It was this 
report, probably, together with the great hazard of 
the venture itself, that had so upset the spirits 
of everybody, though many insisted (and always after- 
ward maintained) that it was really nothing less than 
a supernatural warning. 

The ketch was now so close in that she seemed to 
be almost merged in the dark mass of the nearest 
bunch of vessels, and it would be impossible to follow 
her movements much longer. Very soon, now, as 
seemed certain, something must happen. 

“ Down helm, and fill on the topsail ! ” broke in 
Preble’s voice at this moment, for the frigate had 
drifted almost into the throat of the harbour. 

With little noise the order was obeyed, and the 


54 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


uncertain shapes, that all hands were staring at, were 
brought over the quarter. 

“ I’ve lost her,” said Captain Woods, after another 
moment. “ Can you make her out, Paul ? ” 

“No,” was the answer; “and there comes the 
Siren, who will cut us off, anyway.” 

The brig was the nearest vessel, at the moment, to 
leeward of them, and she had just then put down her 
helm, and was tacking on their course. All at once, 
as she eclipsed their view, an excited voice on board 
of her called out : 

“ Look ! See the light.” 

She came almost into the wind, as the man spoke, 
and opened the range again to those on the Consti- 
tution. Instantly they saw the light. It was a mere 
little glimmering point, like an ordinary lantern, and 
was where it seemed the Intrepid must be. It began 
to move, as they looked, and waved rapidly along for 
what might have been the length of the deck, when 
it again stopped. A man next to Paul began to say 
something, but at that moment the light dropped 
suddenly out of sight, and in a twinkling a sheet of 
flame leaped on high, and the boom of a heavy explo- 
sion roared out over the water. As it died away, a 
far-off splashing and rattling noise followed, like the 
falling of heavy objects on the rocks and into the 
sea. 

For a moment the watchers stared at the dusky 
and now quiet spot, and not a man spoke. Then 
a head here and there was turned and a look was 
exchanged, and all at once the spell was broken. 


THE TRAGEDY OF THE INTREPID. 155 

“ Somers has kept his word ! ” said Captain Woods, 
with a long breath. 

“God bless him for a brave man!” cried a deep- 
voiced seaman on the deck below. 

“He was a Samson, you might say,” spoke up an 
old tar, “ for he has destroyed his enemies with him- 
self. You can depend upon it, to-morrow’s light will 
show what he has done. There’ll be a wreck or two 
to match the ketch.” 

“ May his soul and his brave fellers’ souls be 
this minute in paradise!” exclaimed an Irish sailor. 

“ But is it certain that they are all dead ? ” here put 
in Paul. “ I know it looks that way, but it seems to 
me there may be a chance.” 

“A mighty little one,” said a seaman who just then 
came up. It was Reuben James. He was helping 
himself along with a cane. “ It must have been the 
ketch that blowed up,” he went on, “and nobody 
could be left alive that was in her. No, we’ve seen 
the last of them. May they be in paradise, as Mike 
says.” 

“ Stand by to tack ship ! ” broke in the command- 
ing voice of the officer of the deck, at this point. 

It was evident that the captain still had a little 
hope, or else he meant to do what he considered his 
full duty, regardless of his convictions. The frigate’s 
bows were soon pointing again toward the channel. 

The lighter vessels now, also, came about, and word 
was passed to them to push on and enter the throat 
of the harbour. The frigate herself, reducing sail, 
kept on as far as the outer border of the channel. 


156 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

On shore, everything was still quiet, except that, 
from the town itself, came a few faint noises. All 
night long the watching vessels cruised about, but 
without the smallest happening to encourage a hope. 
At last daylight came, and the scores of anxious eyes 
turned once more landward. By degrees, a slight 
mist cleared away, and the gray lines that marked 
the sweep of shore toward which the ketch had 
steered, and the dots of the vessels anchored off it, 
came clearly out. The men with the best eyes 
frowned with the exertions they made to get the first 
view of what was to be seen, and on the quarter-deck 
every glass was levelled anew. 




CHAPTER XII. 


A BIT OF PRIVATE SERVICE. 

HE smaller vessels were so much farther in that 



-JL their glasses brought out the first discoveries. 
Three gunboats out of the fleet that had been at 
anchor at this point were ashore, their bulwarks stove 
in, and, to appearances, otherwise shattered. Another 
gunboat was missing. Some human figures were 
moving about the beach, and a few were trying to 
drag the wrecked boats farther ashore. There were 
no recognisable fragments of the Intrepid , though 
several dark objects, probably pieces of the wreck, 
were floating about a little way offshore. 

“I suppose that settles everything,” said Paul 
Woods, with a sigh, as the last of these discoveries 
was reported. “ Of course, it is still possible that 
some one was left alive and was picked up, but the rest 
are certainly gone.” 

“ Yes, and a thousand chances to one that every 
man is gone,” answered his father, sadly. “ I don’t 
see as anything more can be done, except to try to 
learn some of the particulars.” 

This, in fact, was all that Captain Preble was able 
to do. He sent a gunboat still farther in, and finally 
managed to open communication with Mr. Nissen. 


I58 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

Through him it was learned that the bottom of the 
hull of the Intrepid had at last drifted ashore, and 
that in it were two dead bodies. They were 
blackened and mangled beyond recognition, but 
were unquestionably those of white men. A few 
days afterward, several other bodies came ashore, 
and these Captain Bainbridge and his officers were 
allowed to view, but they could not certainly identify 
any. It seemed, as the story reached Captain Bain- 
bridge, that the Intrepid got too close to shore and 
grounded, and was at once attacked by three or four 
gunboats. The Intrepid then shortly blew up, and it 
was the belief of the Tripolitans that Somers had 
deliberately done it. 

It was some days afterward before even the greater 
number of these additional particulars were learned, 
and meanwhile there were sad and gloomy faces on 
the fleet. Every man who was lost was well liked, 
and several were favourites. Still, it is not the nature 
of healthy and vigorous minds to linger under a 
cloud, and so, after a little time, the tragedy, for all 
its sad features, was dropped into the background. 

As Captain Barron must now so soon arrive, Cap- 
tain Preble decided not to make another general 
attack, but to content himself with holding the 
blockade and with annoying the enemy in such ways 
as opportunity might afford. As it happened, the 
day after the fatal Intrepid expedition, threatening 
weather came on, and it was decided to take the 
guns and other heavy equipment out of the small 
vessels, and send all but three of the fleet to Syracuse. 


A BIT OF PRIVATE SERVICE. 1 59 

This was done, and the three following vessels were 
chosen to stay, viz.: the Constitution , Argus , and 
Vixen. 

It soon came on to blow, but with nothing like the 
violence that had been looked for, and the three 
vessels had no difficulty in keeping their stations. 
That night the wind shifted and soon after fined 
down. All that then remained of the gale was an 
uncomfortable cross sea. 

On the following morning Paul Woods was busy 
at a small job on deck, when a cabin boy came up 
and said that the captain wished to see him. Paul was 
on his knees, at the moment, with scrubbing-brush 
in his hand, but he understood what an order from 
the cabin meant, and in a jiffy was heading that way. 

He found the captain in the main cabin, seated at 
the long table. 

“ I wish to send a man ashore to receive an impor- 
tant message,” Preble began, without preliminaries, 
as Paul pulled up and saluted, “ and I am told that 
you are qualified for the work. Are you willing 
to go ? ” 

Paul was of course surprised, and for a moment 
hesitated. 

“ It is a risk,” the captain resumed, “and a serious 
one, and that you must consider. If you are taken 
you will probably be hanged.” 

By this time Paul had got his legs under him, so 
to speak, and was ready with his answer. 

“ I will go, sir. When do you wish me to start ? ” 

“ Your promptness in consenting is commendable,” 


i6o 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


said the captain, with an approving nod. “ I believe 
that you are the man for my purpose. You will not 
start till night.” 

“ Are there any special preparations that I am to 
make ? I take it that it is secret work.” 

“Yes; you will need to change your clothes. In 
fact, you must disguise yourself. My idea is to have 
you pass for a slave. You will know how to manage 
that.” 

“I ought to, sir,” answered Paul, with a smile. 
“Is there anything else?” 

“ Nothing more now. Or yes, — I will ask a 
question. Your business will be to see a certain 
man in one of the merchants’ quarters. His name 
is Abou Safi. Do you know him ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir,” answered Paul, readily. “ That is, 
by sight. He is an oil dealer. His shop is pretty 
near the slave quarter, and I often saw him. I can 
find him without any trouble.” 

“Then that is a point gained,” said Preble with a 
gratified look. “That’s all, I believe, till evening. 
Report at six bells.” 

“ Very well, sir.” 

Paul saluted and went back to the deck, as may be 
supposed, rather more thoughtful than when he left 
it. Nothing had been said to him about keeping the 
matter from the rest of the crew, but he took it for 
granted that the less he said about it the better, and 
decided to speak of it to no one but his father. This 
decision he adhered to, and went about his duties as 
usual till the beginning of the dog-watch. Then he 


A BIT OF PRIVATE SERVICE. 


6 


got the chance he wanted, and took the old gentleman 
aside and told him the whole. 

“ It’s a pretty dangerous job, as the skipper says,” 
commented the captain, when Paul had finished. “ I 
wish — but no matter. You’ll have to keep your wits 
about you.” 

“ Yes,” assented Paul, a little soberly. His father’s 
evident reluctance to have him go a little affected him. 

“Well, I guess you’ll come out all right,” the 
captain resumed. His tones were firmer now. 
“ Anyhow, you’re in for it. Who is this Abou 
What’s-his-name ? I mean, what does the skipper 
know about him ? ” 

“I can’t say,” answered Paul (his own brief mo- 
ment of weakness had passed), “but maybe it was 
through Mr. Nissen. You remember that he sent a 
note the other day. As there was a government 
officer in the boat, the note must have been in- 
spected, but I think it likely that there was some- 
thing secret smuggled into it. All that it appeared 
to say, you know, was what Captain Bainbridge had 
found out about our men’s bodies.” 

“I guess you are right,” said Captain Woods, after 
a little reflection. “ Mr. Nissen wants to help us, 
but can’t do so openly, and is trying to work a 
secret scheme. Maybe this Abou Something is a 
fellow he’s bought up. Well, you’ll soon know.” 

They discussed the matter a little further, but 
not with the result of bringing out anything new. 
Half an hour before the appointed time, Paul went 
below to get together the things for his disguise, and 


162 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


at just six bells presented himself in the cabin. The 
officer of the deck had looked understandingly at 
him as he passed, and smiled, but the sailors that 
happened to see him were brought to a standstill 
with surprise. He merely nodded amusedly, but as 
though he knew what he was about, and kept on. 

As he now stood before Captain Preble, his hair 
thrown mop-fashion about his head, his clothes only 
an old shirt and a pair of greasy trousers, and his 
erect figure purposely a little stooped, the veteran ran 
him over with a quick glance and nodded approvingly. 

“ I think you’ll do. You look about as you did 
when you first came aboard. Now as to your in- 
structions. You are to see this Abou Safi and re- 
ceive the message ; then make your way as quickly 
as you can out of the city and back to where the boat 
will pick you up. That is all, and I leave the exact 
manner of proceeding to you. The way I have hit 
upon to get you ashore is to provide you with the 
little skiff we picked up the other day, and have the 
Argus take you inside the harbour. She will stand 
well in toward the southerly shore, and when you are 
abreast of what you think is a convenient landing- 
place she will cast you off. In coming back the plan 
will simply be reversed. Should you lose the skiff, — 
and of course you will hide it, wherever you land, — 
you must make a signal and a boat will go after you. 
The signal may be a light, held stationary for a mo- 
ment and then dipped twice. You will see that Mr. 
Hull understands the arrangement. I believe that 
these are all the instructions I have to give you.” 


A BIT OF PRIVATE SERVICE. 1 63 

“ I will try to carry them out, sir,” said Paul, pre- 
paring to go. 

“ I believe you will succeed,” said Preble, with en- 
couraging emphasis. “Don’t be too daring, is the 
last caution I have to give you. Work like this 
requires, above all things, coolness and patience.” 

Paul bowed, and was at last at liberty to go. 

When he reached the deck a boat was ready to 
carry him to the Argus , and he took hasty leave of 
his father and those of his most intimate friends who 
were near, and jumped aboard. He found Master- 
Commandant Hull ready to receive him, and was very 
kindly greeted. 

“ It will take some nerve to carry out your plan,” 
the officer remarked, as he finished the order to his 
executive to lay the brig on her new course. 

“ Perhaps not so much as it seems,” Paul modestly 
answered, “for you see I have been there before, and 
know the lay of the land.” 

“ Oh, without that of course you wouldn’t have 
attempted it at all,” Mr. Hull rejoined, “but for all 
that, there’s plenty of danger in it. How will you 
manage, for instance, if you are overhauled and 
recognised ? ” 

“ I shall take the greatest pains to avoid that,” 
said Paul. “ The city gate on the water front won’t 
be closed when I get there, and the guard will pay 
little attention to me. I have purposely left my hair 
long, so that I can mop it down over my forehead 
and about my face, and that will help to disguise me. 
The guard will think that I am either one of the 


164 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


new slaves, and have not yet been sent to the bar- 
ber, or else that I am privately owned. Once inside 
the gate I will pick out all the by-streets and dark 
alleys till I get to Abou Safi’s. Coming back, I can 
find a way to get over the wall. I think that I shall 
manage it.” 

“ It sounds as though you would, to hear you tell 
it,” said Hull, with what might be considered a com- 
plimentary smile. “But you have no weapons,” he 
went on. “ I understand that a gun or a cutlass 
won’t do, but wouldn’t it be well to take a pistol ? I 
have a little one that you could hide in your pocket ? ” 

“Thank you, sir, but I have one,” said Paul, with 
the words pulling a steel-mounted butt into sight 
from his trousers pocket. “ And besides that I have 
a good dirk-knife,” he explained. “A man in Syra- 
cuse made me a present of the two weapons, and I 
concluded that this was where they came in.” 

“It does look that way,” said Hull, again smiling. 
“ Seems to me you are a pretty cool, far-sighted hand. 
But now what about taking you off, after you have 
done the job ? Captain Preble said we should ar- 
range about that, including a signal.” 

Paul briefly explained the captain’s suggestions, 
and they were discussed a little and adopted. 

“The only thing left to settle, then,” said Hull, 
“is where we shall land you. What is your idea 
about that ? ” 

“ I think that you had better run straight across, 
as you head,” answered Paul, unhesitatingly, “ and 
cast me off when you are at least a mile from shore. 


A BIT OF PRIVATE SERVICE. 1 65 

I will pull in and follow along to the town. There 
are shoals and places where a vessel of any size can’t 
go, but of course that won’t bother me. When I get 
opposite the eastern forts I will keep my eye peeled, 
and if necessary work out a little. Pretty soon after 
that I shall get near the fleet, and at a point there- 
abouts I mean to land. Just as to that, though, I 
shall have to be guided by circumstances. If it holds 
on overcast like this, for instance, I can manage with 
a good deal less trouble.” 

“I see. Well, it doesn’t look as though it was 
going to be very light.” Hull glanced up at the sky 
as he spoke. “ In fact,” he went on, “ it’s about as 
dark as I care to have it, speaking for myself and 
the ship. But I’ll manage to leave you where you 
want to be, let what will happen.” 

“ Thank you, sir, and I hope you won’t have to 
take much extra risk,” said Paul. 

“ Those light clouds are not very threatening,” re- 
marked Hull with another glance around ; “ but there 
are some blacker ones down there that have a thicker 
wadding in them. Never mind. The run won’t be 
long.” 

But it turned out to be long enough to show that 
the commandant was a good judge of the weather, 
for, in a few minutes, the small black patches that 
he had pointed out climbed nearly to the zenith and 
blanketed the light of all the southern stars. It was 
exactly as Paul would have had it, however it might 
work mischief for the brig. Nevertheless, Hull did 
not seem to be troubled, but quietly saw the skiff 


66 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


launched and away, and without apparent haste put 
his vessel about and tacked for the mouth of the 
harbour. The wind, it should be observed, was light, 
and a trifle west of north. 

Paul watched the dark shape of the vessel and her 
wan sails (she had blanketed all her lights) slowly 
fade out, and settled himself resolutely to his work. 
It had not appeared to him wise to shoot quickly 
away from the ship, as it was reasonably certain that 
she had been observed, and a skiff appearing quickly 
from her neighbourhood might attract suspicion ; but 
he thought he might now pull a few strokes, espe- 
cially as he did not mean to head directly toward 
the shore. He had it in mind that it was still 
a considerable distance to the city, and that it was 
altogether desirable to reach there before it was late. 
As a rule the gate watch were suspicious of persons 
who applied for admission after the early evening 
hours, and this was especially true of slaves ; they 
were generally supposed to be indoors by sunset. 

It took but a few minutes, after he did think it 
prudent to let out a little, to bring the skiff as close 
as he desired to the shore, and he then swung her 
bows, and laid her fair for the city. 

A short distance to the south and west was a large 
battery, and after passing a long reach of shoals an- 
other, but after that the shore was nearly deserted 
till it approached the city. Here was lower land and 
on the water-side a beach, and then began the walls 
of the city proper, flanked just beyond by the castle. 
Paul passed the batteries without seeming to excite 


A BIT OF PRIVATE SERVICE. 1 67 

any suspicion, — in fact, there was no sign of life 
there except the glimmer of a few lights, — and be- 
gan to come abreast of the beach. Now the danger, 
should he keep on, would be tremendously increased, 
for he could make out the easternmost of the bashaw’s 
vessels, and several small craft grew into distinctness 
in the open water, and could be seen moving about. 
Any of these might hail him, and if they were sus- 
picious of his answers would perhaps try to detain 
him. There was a reward for returning runaway 
slaves, and he was still too far outside the walls to 
make it altogether probable that he had been about 
legitimate business and was on his way back. On 
the other hand, if he were to land now, he must run 
the risk of encountering the shore patrol, as well as 
of meeting such of the town’s people as happened to 
be strolling about. This meeting would be, of course, 
in the open, where there was still far too much light. 

But Paul had, as already stated, previously mapped 
out his course, and though he had left some leeway 
for emergencies, he did not find, in the present situa- 
tion, anything to cause him to hesitate. He swung 
the bow of his craft, ran her up to the beach, and 
leaped out. There is so little tide in the Mediter- 
ranean that it ordinarily does not have to be allowed 
for in beaching boats, and Paul merely pulled the 
skiff a few feet up the gravel, and put a heavy stone 
on a coil of the painter. So far everything had gone 
well, and he drew a little breath of relief as he saw to 
his weapons, and started toward the town. He was 
only a few minutes in reaching and passing the 


1 68 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


bashaw’s castle and coming to the first of the city 
gates. Here the little starlight was helped out by 
the glimmer of two or three lanterns, and here stood 
the three men who were on guard. A few idlers 
were lounging about just within the gate, and 
appeared to be talking languidly, but there was no 
one else in sight, and the guards were leaning 
silently on their guns. The situation was not just 
as Paul would have had it, for there was too little 
going on, and too few people about, but he did not 
think of hesitating, and merely pulled the ends of 
the coloured handkerchief that he wore on his head 
a little about his face, and pushed sturdily on. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


A NEW COMPLICATION. 

T HE guards did not deign to move, as the sup- 
posed slave halted before them, but the leader, 
or captain, in a lordly way inquired : 

“ Who are you, and where have you been ? ” 

“ If you please, your Excellency, I am Kedras, the 
slave of Agat, the Turkish gem dealer, and I have 
been abroad on business for my master.” 

“What business of a gem dealer could take you 
outside the walls, and keep you till this hour ? ” 
asked the man, crossly and suspiciously. “Speak 
up, now, or you will quickly find yourself in 
trouble.” 

Paul had some difficulty in following the fellow’s 
words, which were spoken rapidly, but he caught 
their import. 

“ I shall be bastinadoed, if I tell you,” he hesitated 
a moment, and with seeming fear answered. “ Please, 
your Excellency, I am a new slave, by birth an 
American, and not yet acquainted with all my 
duties, and I beseech your Excellency to make allow- 
ance for me.” 

“ I will make the allowance of a good stick on the 
soles of your feet, unless you answer straightway,” 
169 


I/O A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

said the guard, snappishly. “ I will have no slave 
making mysteries with me.” 

“Well, your Excellency, I must tell, then,” said 
Paul, with a bow, “ but I trust your Excellency will 
not be offended if I say that my compliance may 
get your Excellency into trouble.” 

“What, get me into trouble, and on account of 
doing my duty ? ” said the Moor, with a derisive 
laugh. “I have no such fears. Go on.” 

“In the first place, then,” began Paul, as he spoke 
narrowly watching the man, “my master, who, as you 
may know, has often special commissions from those 
high in authority, was yesterday sent for by our mas- 
ter, the bashaw.” 

“ Hold ! ” said the man, suddenly altering his 
manner. “ Is it matters of that sort ? Why did 
you not say so ? I surely do not wish to meddle 
with — Pass on, fellow, and remember that I have 
but sought to do my duty.” 

“ I will so report it,” answered Paul, hardly able to 
conceal his relief and satisfaction. The fact was he 
was trusting to his imagination for a plausible yarn, 
if it came to that, for he had only an outline in his 
head, and the odds were against him that it would be 
suspected, and pulled to pieces. He had counted 
considerably, however, on the fear of the guard to 
meddle with matters that concerned the bashaw, — 
here some things that had happened while he was a 
slave, and some that had been told him by Jim Hunt, 
stood him in good stead, — and in this he was luckily 
right. 


A NEW COMPLICATION. 


7 


As soon as he was inside the gate he pushed on 
till he came to the first by-street, and then whipped 
in and headed as straight as he could for Abou 
Safi’s. He was delighted with his success thus far, 
but felt a trifle weak from the reaction of his nerves, 
and was glad that the strain had not continued 
longer. In a short time he turned into a wider 
street, which it was necessary that he should follow 
for a short distance before he could again take one 
that was more obscure and safer. It will have to be 
borne in mind here that nearly all of the houses and 
shops in Tripoli are walled in, and that it was there- 
fore impossible for Paul to cut across yards and 
unoccupied grounds, as he might have done at home. 
He was forced into this wider street, therefore, but 
moved along it as fast as in prudence he could, taking 
care to keep his face pretty well concealed from 
those that he met. 

He was about at the opening of the by-street into 
which he meant to turn when a gate in the wall of a 
tree-shaded house just over the way was flung open, 
and a man rushed out, and pitched sprawling down in 
the middle of the street. Paul was naturally a little 
startled, and hesitated for a moment, and as he did 
so the man dismally groaned. The kind-hearted 
young fellow could not stand that, and stepped out 
and turned the poor creature over. He was bleeding 
from a gash across the forehead, and his eyes were 
closed. 

There was no water at hand, and Paul was troubled, 
for the moment, to know what to do. He pulled the 


172 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

handkerchief from his head, and tried to wipe the 
blood away, and looked inquiringly, as he did so, and 
with decided apprehension around. There was no 
knowing what sequel there was to be to the matter, 
and what danger it would involve him in. 

The gate that the man had flung open still stood 
wide, but no person had as yet appeared within, and 
there were no sounds of a pursuit. It also happened 
that there was no one at the moment in sight, either 
up or down the street. 

“ What is it ? ” questioned Paul, in his perplexity 
trying to get something from the man. “What has 
happened to you ? ” 

Somewhat to his surprise, and considerably to his 
relief, the man at this looked up and seemed to 
understand the question. Now that his face was 
exposed to the light, he was seen to be a middle- 
aged person, by his looks a European of some 
southern nation. He was dressed in rags, and 
his head and feet were bare. 

“ What is the matter ? ” repeated Paul. As before, 
he spoke in Arabic. 

“Ah, sir,” the man began, “I have been all but 
killed. My master gave me more work than I was 
able to do, and because I murmured struck me with 
his yataghan. I fled and thought he followed. That 
is his house.” 

“I am an escaped slave, myself,” answered Paul, 
after another glance around, “and I can not do very 
much for you. Can you walk ? ” 

“You are an American,” broke out the man, 


A NEW COMPLICATION. 


173 


instead of answering. “ Yes, and you are brave 
and strong. You will save me. Oh, don’t let me 
fall into my master’s hands! You know him. He 
is Settleton, the interpreter. He will surely kill 
me.” 

“Is Settleton your master?” said Paul, his brow 
lowering. “ Yes, I will try to help you. See if you 
can get up.” 

The man turned upon his elbow, and, with a pull 
of the hand from Paul, rose weakly to his feet. 

“ I feel better,” he said, steadying himself. “ If you 
will help me I think I can walk.” 

“Which way shall we go?” asked Paul, now 
apparently committed to do what he could for the 
poor wretch, though he realised fully the risk he 
was taking. “Is there any place where you can 
hide for awhile ? ” he went on. “ Perhaps I can 
finally get you out of the city.” 

“ Ah, senor, de sents weel bless you ! ” cried the 
man, speaking now in broken English. “ St; I 
teenk I know a pless where I can hide. Eet ees 
but little way.” 

“ Then come,” said Paul, giving the man his arm. 
He glanced apprehensively toward the open garden 
gate, as he spoke, for he expected to see the renegade 
appear at any moment in it. 

“De nex’ strit,” directed the Spaniard, pointing 
toward the turn that Paul had already intended to 
take. 

They started on, as it seemed none too soon, for a 
few persons now came along and passed them, one 


1/4 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

glancing curiously or suspiciously at the wounded 
Spaniard. 

It was but a few steps to the other street, and 
without interruption they gained it. Paul now 
breathed freer, for the most imminent danger seemed 
to be past. This street was not only narrow, but 
appeared to be for the time deserted, and the high 
surrounding walls and the occasional trees rendered 
it almost dark. The nearest artificial light was one 
at a gate forty or fifty yards beyond. 

Paul almost lifted his charge along, and they drew 
near the lighted gate. It was a tall, arched affair, 
and evidently led to premises rather large in extent. 
Just then, from a spot immediately behind the wall, 
a dog barked. 

“ How far is it now ? ” asked Paul, in a whisper. 
With a kind of double duty on his hands he was 
feeling the strain of the situation. 

“Tirty-forty pace,” answered the man. “We 
soon dere.” 

“ All right,” returned Paul, briefly. 

They went on a few steps, and then another bark 
came from behind the wall. Immediately an inner 
gate shut, and a man’s step came down the walk. 
He evidently carried a lantern, for a glimmer of light 
struck flickeringly through what proved to be the 
spaces between the iron bars of the gate. 

“This way,” said Paul. He began to lead the 
Spaniard obliquely across the street. His object 
was, of course, to avoid the newcomer’s scrutiny. 

They had taken not more than three steps, and 


A NEW COMPLICATION. 


75 


were still opposite the gate, when it opened, and the 
man with the lantern stepped out. He was followed 
by two tall, lank hounds. 

“Let me do the talking,” said Paul, swiftly, in the 
Spaniard’s ear. They kept on, and the man stepped 
still farther out and held up his lantern. 

“Hello, there!” he called out, gruffly. “What 
are you up to ? Why do you set the dogs to 
barking ? ” 

“ Are you the master of the house ? ” answered 
Paul, sharply. 

He saw at once that the man was a mere servant, 
for he was a coarsely dressed, bareheaded negro. 

“ What if I am not ? ” answered the fellow, angrily. 
“ I represent my master, and as he is away I speak for 
him. You are slaves, as I see, and that is why the 
dogs barked ; they are trained to hunt slaves. If 
you don’t want me to set them on you go about 
your business.” 

“That we will gladly do if you will mind yours,” 
returned Paul. 

“ Why, look here ! ” broke out the man, excitedly. 
“That other fellow is wounded. His head is tied up. 
I thought he was only drunk. Stop and give an 
account of yourselves. There is a law about these 
matters, and — ” 

“And a reward in certain cases,” broke in Paul, 
“but this time none for you.” As he spoke he drew 
and cocked his pistol. “ Get in out of sight, and take 
your dogs with you,” he went on, sternly, “or there 
will be one less meddlesome slave in the world ! ” 


176 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

Paul’s Arabic was broken, but his air and manner 
were not to be mistaken. The negro gave an amazed 
stare and hastily jumped back. 

“ A slave with a pistol ! ” he began. “ What — ” 

“ Not a word ! In with you ! ” interrupted Paul. 

He levelled the weapon, and the man gave a grunt 
of alarm and darted inside the gate. 

“ Call the dogs ! ” persisted Paul. 

The fellow hastily whistled them to him. 

At one more peremptory gesture, he shut the gate. 

“Now,” said Paul quietly to his charge, “we will 
proceed.” 

But here there was an unexpected interruption. 

A quick footfall sounded behind them, and as Paul 
turned a man appeared at the opening of the street. 
His figure stood out plainly for a second, and it could 
be seen that he was rather short and wore the tur- 
ban and jacket of an ordinary Tripolitan. The light, 
poor as it was, also showed that he carried a drawn 
yataghan. 

“ Santa Maria ! ” gasped the Spaniard. “ Eet ees 
Settleton ! Keel heem, senor, or par Dios, I am 
lozt ! He weel chop me in piece ! ” 

“ Stay where you are ! ” said Paul, briefly. 

He released his hold of the man, who was, in fact, 
too weak to proceed far, and who then collapsed, 
rather than sat down, where he was. 

Meanwhile, Paul had darted back to meet the rene- 
gade. All ordinary scruples were now put aside, for 
it was his life, the life of his companion, and the suc- 
cess of his mission that he was fighting for. Besides, 



HE WHIPPED HIS OWN STEEL OUT 


AND DROVE IT FORWARD 











A NEW COMPLICATION. 


177 


his enemy was a wretch for whom he had the heartiest 
dislike. The distance back to the opening of the 
street was short, and Paul was upon the renegade in 
a dozen ticks of a clock. 

The fellow was not looking for any trouble of this 
sort, and the pistol-barrel was gleaming before his 
eyes while yet he was wondering what such an 
apparition could mean. 

But it was not Paul’s intention to fire the weapon. 
He meant to avoid the noise, and all he did now was 
to flash the pistol in the renegade’s face and then 
jump in and lunge with his knife. He had no time 
for a precise aim, and the steel brought up in the 
man’s left arm. 

Settleton, to do him justice, was plucky, and though 
he gave a yelp of pain, as the weapon drove into his 
flesh, he did not recoil. Instead, he dropped his 
yataghan and clapped his hand to his girdle for 
his short knife. 

It was now that Paul’s unusual quickness came in 
play. He whipped his own steel out of the rene- 
gade’s arm, and, almost as the point cleared, turned 
it to the left and drove it forward. The man recoiled 
and bent up double, but the thrust was too deep and 
straight. He gave one short groan and sank in a 
heap on the stones. 

Paul had jumped back for an instant, but, as the 
renegade fell, he sprang forward again. A moment’s 
examination showed that the man was dead, and 
without hesitation he caught him by the heels and 
dragged him to the side of the road. The next 


i;8 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


thing was to take possession of the knife, which 
might be useful, and toss the sword over by the side 
of the body. The latter was now in the shadow of 
the wall, where it would not readily attract attention. 
The whole affair had lasted but a few seconds, and to 
all appearances had not been observed. It seemed, 
also, that Paul had added little to his former peril, 
for the body would probably not at once be found, 
and when it was, it would not appear who was the 
slayer. Besides, the danger from the pursuit of the 
Spaniard was over. But ft was time to be moving, 
and Paul cast one more glance at the body and started 
back. At the moment he thought he heard a faint 
sound of voices down the other street. It quickened 
him into making a spurt of it, and he was at once up 
with the Spaniard. 

“ Come,” he said. “ We must be off ! ” 

As he spoke, he glanced around to see what had 
become of the negro and his dogs, but they had 
disappeared. 

“ You keeled heem, senor ? ” inquired the Spaniard. 
“ I saw you scuffles, and Bought dat you lefved heem 
on de ground.” 

“ Yes,” answered Paul, briefly. “ He is dead.” 

He gave the man his arm, and without further talk 
they set off at the best of their restricted speed. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


GOOD LUCK AND BAD. 

“ \ li 7HERE is the place?” asked Paul, after 
* V they had proceeded at least fifty paces. 

He was at last growing a little nervous. 

“We almos’ dere,” answered the man, as he spoke 
peering ahead. “ Si , dat ees der garden wall.'’ 

They had followed along by a row of palm-trees, 
but here it ended, and just beyond began the wall. 
It was high and at this point without a gate, and the 
house that was supposed to lie beyond was not at 
the moment visible. Of course Paul understood how 
this could be, even though the house might be large, 
for it was, doubtless, also low, — not over two stories, 
— and he likewise perceived that this was not the 
street upon which it faced, though it was bounded, 
for the length of the side of the lot, by it. 

But now Paul was surprised, as there was a very 
good reason that he should be. 

“ That the place?” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t 
you tell me ? — but no, I didn’t ask. Do you know 
Abou Safi ? ” 

The Spaniard looked up, surprised, in turn. 

“ Si, to be sures, senor. He ees mi amigo, — the 
good fren’ I sik. Do you know heem ? ” 

179 


180 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

“Ay, I am here to see him,” unhesitatingly an- 
swered Paul. He felt that the admission could do 
no harm. “ I didn’t understand you about the loca- 
tion of the house,” he explained. 

“ Santa Maria ! eet ees strenge ! ” exclaimed the 
Spaniard. “ We fall in togeder when we was boun’ 
for de sem pless. Ah, I rejoice dat we are not 
separate.” 

“ It may be good luck for both of us,” said Paul, 
“ for each seems to be able to help the other. I take it 
that you mean to get into the grounds from this side. 
Is there a gate ? ” ‘ 

“Yez; heem dere,” answered the Spaniard, point- 
ing to a spot in the shadow of an overhanging tree. 
“ But heem lock,” he pursued, “and we not get een. 
I shows you oder way.” 

He unlinked his arm from Paul’s, — he seemed to 
have gained suddenly in strength, though it might 
have been that the need of the moment stimulated 
him, — and advanced to the wall. To Paul’s sur- 
prise, he stooped, and from a hole, or crevice at the 
base of it, took out a longish cord. A stone was 
attached to the end, and this he made an effort to cast 
over a branch of the overhanging tree. He failed, 
evidently from weakness, and passed the cord to Paul. 

“Fleeng heem over dee leemb, and pool heem 
down,” he explained. “Den we climbs up.” 

This was simple enough, and the young man 
quickly had the branch in his hand. By holding on 
and using his feet, he could easily reach the top of 
the wall. 


GOOD LUCK AND BAD. 1 8 1 

“ But how will you fetch it ? ” he asked. “ It is too 
high for me to reach down and pull you up. Hold 
on — I have it ! — the cord. That is what you had 
in mind. All right.” 

He put the cord in his pocket, got a firmer 
hold on the limb, and, with comparative ease, 
scrambled up. 

“ I’ll make a loop in the end of this,” he then bent 
down and whispered, “ and you put your foot in it.” 

It was easy to follow these directions, and the 
powerful young man hauled away, and landed his 
companion safely on the wall. 

“ Now rest a minute,” he said, as he coiled up the 
cord. “The worst of the job is over.” 

He saw that the tree was going to make a con- 
venient ladder, and that his companion’s strength was 
holding out. 

They listened while the Spaniard rested, but there 
were no loud or alarming sounds. Once, indeed, a 
dog, as it seemed about where the slave had halted 
them, barked, but this was not of sufficient conse- 
quence to trouble them. 

“ Come, senor,” said the man, not over half a 
minute later ; “ I am rest enough.” 

Paul climbed into the tree, and, with a sailor’s dex- 
terity, helped his companion after him. By this time, 
it was evident that the man was no lubber, and could 
use his arms and legs with a seaman’s handiness. 
Paul had little trouble in helping him down to the 
main fork of the tree, and from there swung him 
easily to the ground. 


182 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


They were now in shadow, but close to a little patch 
of open sward, beyond which was the angle of a shrub- 
bordered walk. 

“ I suppose it’s straight for the house ? ” said Paul, 
inquiringly, after a look around. 

“ Yez, senor,” answered the man. “ I shows you.” 

He took Paul’s arm and acted as pilot, and headed 
him into the walk. 

By this time it had become fairly light around 
them, for the clouds had thinned and retreated 
toward the horizon, and the stars were coming 
brilliantly out. 

“ Can we get in without delay, do you think ? ” 
asked Paul, as they pushed along. He spoke 
guardedly. 

“ Si, I teenk so, senor,” was the answer. “ Abou 
Safi gif me de tell how.” 

“All right, then. Heave ahead!” satisfiedly re- 
turned Paul. 

They were some minutes in reaching the end of the 
walk, but then had only to cross a row of palms and 
were at once close to the house. It was low and 
almost prison-like, after the fashion of Tripolitan 
dwellings, but seemed to be built on the usual quad- 
rangular plan, so that the four walls enclosed a con- 
siderable court. The few windows on this side were 
small, and appeared to be crossed with iron bars, 
adding to the prison look. There was only one 
visible door, and it was narrow and evidently 
massive. A single great flat stone formed the 
step to it. 


GOOD LUCK AND BAD. 1 83 

Paul took in all these details, and then looked 
questioningly at his companion. 

The man nodded, and, without hesitation, released 
his arm from Paul’s, and began to shuffle toward the 
door. A few sounds now began to be heard within, 
— everything had previously been almost suspiciously 
still, — and Paul’s ears were relieved by the singing 
notes of a man’s voice. The Spaniard, slow as his 
gait was, soon reached the door, and, just as the noise 
within came to the relief of Paul’s nerves, he rapped 
feebly upon it. 

The singing suddenly came to an end, and there 
was a moment of quiet. Then a voice called out 
something, and, with a quick noise of footfalls and 
some appearance of haste, the door was opened. 

It remained dark within, and the person was invis- 
ible, but a man’s strong, deep voice immediately began 
to speak. Paul could not hear the words, but the tone 
was no more than moderately pitched, and seemed, at 
least, to indicate, no alarm 

The Spaniard answered, but again Paul could not 
understand, though he thought he made out that the 
speech was Arabic. As his companion finished, to 
his surprise and dismay, the man within answered 
with a single word and abruptly shut and barred 
the door. 

Paul stood where he was, for a moment, uncertain 
what to do, but, just as he had decided to speak to 
his companion, the latter turned to him. 

“ You can comes now, senor. I teenk all ees 
well. De slave have gone to get Abou.” 


184 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


This was a pleasant disappointment enough, and 
Paul skipped rather than walked to the foot of the 
big door-stone. They waited in silence for a few 
seconds, and then the door was once more unbarred, 
and a man, holding a small lamp in his hand, stood 
there. He was a tall, straight, powerful-looking per- 
son, and did not have the appearance of a Moor, but 
rather of an Arab. He was dressed, however, in the 
usual Moorish garb, and wore a short yataghan in his 
girdle. His long beard, as well as his carefully 
braided hair, was black, slightly sprinkled with gray, 
and he looked as though he might be forty or possibly 
fifty years old. 

“ Enter,” he said, briefly, after letting the light of 
his lamp fall for a moment on the two men. 

Paul followed his companion in, and the Arab first 
dropped the huge bar once more across the door, and 
then went on ahead, and finally ushered them into a 
large and comfortably furnished room. It was high 
in the walls, and was lighted and ventilated by two 
windows and a curtained door, all opening on the 
court. Hangings of some delicate, pale-hued fabric 
covered the walls, and two immense Turkish rugs 
nearly hid the floors. These floors were marble. 
The few ornaments consisted of two stuffed pea- 
cocks, a vase or two, and a gilded suit of ancient 
Moorish armour. 

As soon as they were in the room the Arab 
motioned them to cushions, and himself sat down 
close by. Then he took a silver whistle from his 
girdle, and blew a sharp note. Immediately foot- 


GOOD LUCK AND BAD. 1 85 

steps pattered across the court, and a half-grown 
negro boy entered. 

“ Iced sherbet and confections.” 

The boy bowed till his head about touched the 
floor, and darted away. 

While he was gone, the Arab sat like a statue, and 
seemed to contemplate the floor. The little fellow 
was back in a wonderfully short time, and bore on a 
lacquered tray a great silver flagon, some silver cups, 
and a china plate full of candied dates and figs. At 
a sign from his master, the boy served a glass of the 
sherbet and some of the confections to each of 
the guests. When he had done this, he bowed once 
more, and tripped away. 

Paul did not know what the custom of an aristo- 
cratic Arab in these little matters might be, so he 
waited till his host had set the example by taking a 
small sip of the sherbet, when he nodded politely, 
and took a couple of swallows from his own cup. 
This, he thought, would answer for etiquette, and, 
without further scruples, he then took a drink that 
about uncovered the bottom. The stuff was, in fact, 
delicious and refreshing. 

He was now ready for business, and turned toward 
his host. He observed, at the same time, that the 
Spaniard had made an equally quick disposal of his 
drink. 

But, to his surprise, the Arab only glanced that 
way, and again blew his whistle. As the boy darted 
in, he pointed to the two nearly emptied cups. 

The child deftly and quickly filled them, and once 


86 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


more salaamed and withdrew. The Arab then 
turned, this time with an alert expression, to his 
guests. 

“ There are now no empty cups, and we may talk. 
I am ready to hear what you both have to say.” 

Paul looked at the Spaniard, — of course his own 
business must not be told in this open way, — and 
nodded for him to proceed. 

“ Most worthy Abou Safi,” the escaped slave at 
that began, “you can guess, I am sure, why I am 
here. My master sought to murder me.” 

The Arab slightly inclined his head. 

“ You have my promise to protect you,” he said, 
serenely. “The red-haired one shall not harm you.” 

The Spaniard slapped his hands together joyfully, 
and broke out in words of thanks. 

“But, worthy sir,” he then went on, “the matter is 
worse than you may suppose. My master is dead, hav- 
ing been slain while pursuing and striving to kill me. 
This young man struck him down. Now, does not 
this greatly add to the difficulty of saving me ? ” 

Abou Safi was slowly chewing a candied date, and 
kept on for a moment before he answered. 

“It may be,” he finally said, “but that does not 
alter my pledge. If you came to me with your life 
in danger I was to protect you. I shall therefore 
do it.” 

“ Then I can at last draw a full breath ! ” cried 
the man, in delight. “ May all the saints reward you ! 
Ay,” he went on, in Spanish, and under his breath, 
“ infidel though you be ! ” 


GOOD LUCK AND BAD. 


87 


Abou Safi understood at least the gratitude that 
the man meant to express, and nodded in his grave 
way. 

“ I shall keep you till I can send you out of the 
city,” he said. “Though the interpreter is dead, his 
heirs will claim you, and they might refuse to sell 
you, as he did. We will not give them the chance. 
With a little prudence you can stay here till — till 
other things happen. Now, sir,” he turned from the 
Spaniard to Paul, and went on, “in what way can I 
serve you ? I take it that you seek refuge because 
of having killed Settleton.” 

Paul had come to the point of some kind of expla- 
nation, at last, and he quickly concluded that he might 
as well introduce the final one. 

“ It was partly on that account, sir,” he answered, 
“ and partly on another. The killing of the man was 
the direct result of meeting with my friend here, but 
I was in danger before that. The truth is, I was 
once a slave in this place, but escaped, and for a long 
time have been aboard one of the American ships. 
It is a peculiar circumstance that has brought me 
back.” 

As he uttered these last words, he turned his back 
partly on his companion, and looked swiftly and 
meaningly in the Arab’s face. 

Abou Safi did not seem to change his expression, 
but after a few seconds he took out his silver 
whistle. 

This time he blew two notes, and in answer a 
black slave entered. He was a bright-looking fel- 


1 88 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


low, and wore a yataghan and carried a bunch of 
keys. 

“Altol,” his master made a gesture toward the 
Spaniard, and said, “this good friend of mine needs 
your services. He has been wounded, as you see, 
and I noticed just now that he looked faint and weak. 
Captain Hanchez, I beg you will overlook my neg- 
ligence, which I will now try to repair. If you will 
go with Altol he will attend to your wound and after- 
ward bestow you in a suitable place to rest. You 
need have no fears of any kind, for you are safe 
here.” 

The Spaniard had, in fact, begun to feel the re- 
action from what he had been through, and probably 
did not doubt that he showed it in his looks. He 
was only too glad, now that the strain was over, to 
be looked after and go to bed, and he thanked Abou 
again, and rose to follow the negro. 

“But firzt,” he halted suddenly, and broke out, 
u I must know how you fare, comrado. Ah, Santa 
Madre , I could not sleep witout.” He turned 
inquiringly and appealingly from Paul to Abou 
Safi. 

“ Have no fears ! ” said the Arab, with one of his 
grave nods. “Your friend shall be as safe as your- 
self. And indeed he must be while he is under the 
shelter of my roof,” he added, with a lighting of the 
eyes, “ for otherwise I could not again face my kin- 
dred and my tribe. Allah give you the sweetness of 
sleep ! ” 

The worthy fellow was satisfied with this, and fell 


GOOD LUCK AND BAD. 1 89 

into the wake of the negro, receiving a cordial “ Thank 
you, and good night,” from Paul as he went. 

Abou Safi waited till the last footfall of the two 
had died away, and then turned to the young sailor. 
His black eyes were gleaming a little, now, and his 
languorous air had vanished. 

“ Well, I am ready to hear you,” he began. 

“ I am from Captain Preble,” said Paul, without 
further preface, “ and I am here to take the message 
that he understands you want to send to him.” 

The Arab’s slight sharpness of expression softened, 
and he satisfiedly nodded. 

“You must be what you claim,” he then said. 
“Very well, I have a message. It is this: Hamet 
Karamauli, the former bashaw of Tripoli, banished 
by the present bashaw, has determined to make an 
effort to regain his throne. He is just now in the 
mountains, but is beginning to recruit an army, and 
before long will be ready to take the field. What he 
desires is to make common cause with your forces, 
and if that can be done gives his word that he will 
do everything in his power to show his gratitude. 
He is the rightful ruler, as your commander may 
know, and has been most cruelly wronged. It is 
because of these wrongs and to put him where he 
belongs that I and many members of my tribe have 
undertaken to aid him. We are free Arabs, but we 
will draw our weapons in so just a cause, and, more- 
over, we shall by so doing strike a blow for ven- 
geance’s sake at one who has proved himself our 
enemy. Now is my message clear ? ” 


190 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ Perfectly so,” said Paul, who was not less pleased 
than surprised at what he heard. A way seemed .to 
be opening at last to strike at the unscrupulous 
rascal that had so long baffled them, and evaded 
their just demands. 

“ Then it only remains to explain the details of the 
plan,” said Abou Safi, “and that will not take long.” 

Thereupon he fetched from another room a map 
of Tripoli and its surroundings, and made clear the 
points of his design. 

“ I think I have the idea, now,” said Paul, at the 
close. “ All there is left for me to do is to get back 
to the ship.” 

“ Shall you try to go to-night ? ” said Abou, in sur- 
prise. “ How will you manage to pass the gate 
watch ? ” 

Paul answered, smiling : “ I shall not pass the 
watch, but shall climb over the wall. It is not so 
very high on the inside, you know, and I am posted 
where to find some easily scaled places.” 

“ But after you are out ? ” 

“ I have my boat.” He went on and explained 
where it was, and the plan of escape after he should 
regain it. 

“Perhaps, then, under those circumstances, it 
would be better that you went,” admitted Abou. 

“Then I will be about it,” said Paul. “By which 
way had I better leave the house ? ” he inquired. 

“ By the front,” answered Abou. “ It will be much 
easier, and if you are careful, as safe. You can then 
turn the corner and go back by the way you came.” 


GOOD LUCK AND BAD. I9I 

“ Very well. But now as to something else. What 
about finding the interpreter’s body ? Somebody 
must have run across it, by this time, and I should 
think that would stir up an excitement.” 

“ Where did the killing occur ? ” asked Abou, more 
gravely. “I inferred that it was near Settleton’s 
house.” 

“No, it was close by the corner of this back 
street. I left the body ” — Paul described where. 

“ Then perhaps you had better — Hark ! What 
is that ? ” 

Paul had heard the same sound, and it gave him a 
start. It was the steady baying of hounds. 

“The deuce take it! Can it be that fellow’s 
dogs ? ” he broke out. “ A servant in a house 
around the corner was too inquisitive,” he explained, 
“and I had to make sharp talk to him. He had a 
couple of dogs, and perhaps he has set them on my 
track.” 

“That may be what has happened,” said Abou, 
looking troubled. “ Wait here a moment, and I will 
try to learn.” 

He hurried out into the court, and made his way 
toward the side door of the house. The noise had 
seemed to come from that direction. Paul coolly 
looked after his weapons, and again sat down. Just 
then Abou returned. He came back at a run, and, 
despite his great power of self-control, his face dis- 
closed his evil tidings. 

“Yes, they are after you,” he said. “They are 
tracking with the hounds across the garden, and in 


I92 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

a moment must find your trail. You will have to 
hide, and that at once. Hanchez must come, too.” 

But the words were hardly out of his mouth before 
there was a noise of rushing feet, and a knock like 
thunder on the door. 

“They can’t get in at once,” said the Arab, his 
complete coolness with that appearing to come back ; 
“and before they do you will be safe.” 

He blew twice on his whistle, and Altol came 
running in. 

“ Get Captain Hanchez, and bring him to my 
closet. Be quick. Take him in your arms, if he 
can’t walk.” 

The slave evidently understood the peril, for he 
barely stopped for a respectful nod, and bounded 
away. 

“ Follow me ! ” 

Abou stopped long enough to throw off his outer 
robe, appearing then in a dark one much shorter, and 
led the way from the room. 


CHAPTER XV. 


a conspirator’s resources. 

HE door by which Abou went out led in the 



J- general direction of the front of the house, but, 
upon entering the passage beyond, there proved to be 
a straight connection with the wings and rear rooms. 
First stopping in this passage and taking from a hook 
a lighted lantern, Abou set off in the direction of 
the rear apartments. He kept on perhaps thirty 
feet, and then came to a curtain which he pushed 
aside, disclosing a rather narrow door. This he 
unlocked, and led Paul into the room beyond. It 
was a small place, comfortably furnished with rugs 
and cushions, and was lighted by two grated windows 
set high up the sides. There was a second door, 
or rather doorway, leading out, and this connected 
by a curtained arch with another small room. The 
curtain was just now drawn aside, and Paul could 
make out a bare-looking, tiled apartment, which he 
guessed must be a bath-room. 

“ We are as good as safe, now,” said Abou, “and 
we can afford to wait awhile for the captain and Altol. 
Should they be a dangerously long time in coming, I 
will provide for you and go back after them.” 

Paul could not see where the immediate safety 


194 A TAR 0F THE 0LD SCHOOL. 

came in, but he trusted the Arab, and in answer gave 
merely an assenting nod. 

Abou then stepped out into the passage and 
listened, and Paul leaned against the wall and 
quietly waited. 

In a few seconds the noise of pounding and the 
voices of the searching party grew louder, and it was 
evident that the active assault on the house had begun. 

Abou frowned, and looked impatiently along the 
passage. It was evident that, however easy he felt 
as to Paul, he was growing sharply anxious about his 
other charge. 

A few seconds passed, and then, with a little 
shock to Paul’s nerves, a door in the interior of 
the house slammed loudly. The noise was instantly 
followed by the quick shuffling sound of feet. 

“Good!” ejaculated Abou, the next moment. 
With the word Altol and the Spanish captain 
came like a kind of four-legged monster into the 
room. The slave was half-carrying the dazed and 
alarmed Spaniard. 

“ Now, then, friend Americano,” cried Abou to 
Paul, “just give the captain your arm, and come 
with me. Return, Altol, and attend to your usual 
duties. You will be safe.” 

The slave bowed and bolted out, and Abou closed 
and locked the door. Paul was looking that way, 
and now noticed that the inner side of this door 
was sheathed in some kind of metal. It was stained 
to imitate the surrounding wood, however, and the 
difference was not noticeable at a casual glance. 


a conspirator’s resources. 195 

“ Come,” said Abou, leading the way now toward 
the inner room. “ We have no time to lose.” 

Paul gave Hanchez his arm, — the Spaniard 
was again recovering his strength, showing that 
his head had been more at sea than his legs, 
— and the three were quickly inside the tiled 
chamber. 

As Paul had supposed, it was a bath-room, and 
contained two tanks, or bathing-pools, each six or 
seven feet square, and five or more deep, and lined 
with blocks of marble. The room was almost bare 
of furniture, though a wooden bench stood near each 
tank. The walls were unbroken by windows, a sky- 
light in the ceiling taking their place. There was 
only one other door, which was opposite the one by 
which they had entered. 

Without a word Abou went to one of the benches 
and lifted the seat, which proved to go on hinges. 
In a little receptacle below were several small tools, 
including a short steel hook. Taking this, Abou 
dropped lightly into the second of the bathing-tanks 
and began to run his fingers over a place in the 
bottom. 

“Please to hold the lantern,” he called out, after a 
moment. “I cannot find what I am after.” 

Paul helped the Spaniard to a bench, and suspended 
the lantern over the edge of the tank. 

“ Allah be praised ! ” exclaimed Abou, the next 
instant. “ I have found it ! ” 

He suddenly slipped the point of his hook into a 
slight crevice at the side of a block, and drew it — 


I96 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL* 

or the moderately thick slab that it proved to be — - 
wholly away. 

To Paul’s surprise, a black hole was disclosed. 

“ Now, please to unbolt that farther door, and then 
help Captain Hanchez down here,” went on Abou. 
“ I will take him in my arms ! ” 

Paul quickly complied with both requests, and, 
when the Spaniard was safely in the tank, jumped 
after. At the very moment that he landed a dull 
crashing noise came from somewhere outside, and 
the building slightly jarred. It appeared that the 
mob had at last broken down the door. 

“They are too late,” said Abou, coolly. “Follow 
me.” 

He seized the lantern and slipped quickly through 
the hole. Apparently he did not drop more than 
six feet, and as he put the light on the floor of 
the place, his head and shoulders were in full view. 

The hole was at least three feet square, and there 
was no difficulty in passing the wounded Spaniard 
through. Paul then joined him, and Abou proceeded 
to close the trap. He put down his lantern and 
pushed along a wooden stool, which he hastily 
mounted, and was now able to reach the slab. 
With a strong pull he quickly brought it back into 
its place. This was the easier done that the slab was 
thin and that there was an iron ring conveniently set 
in the under side. Paul noticed, however, that the 
Arab took pains to adjust the trap very carefully in 
its place, and he saw that the edges were lined with 
strips of some black yielding substance. 


a conspirator’s resources. 197 

Abou did not stop after he had restored the slab, 
but stepped at once from the stool and passed along 
the wall to what proved to be a narrow niche. There 
he seized hold of some unseen object, and gave two 
or three strong twists. At once a low, rumbling 
noise began to be heard, and a little spray of water 
flew from the interior of the niche. 

Abou stood with one hand still on the unseen 
object, which might now be guessed to be a water- 
valve of some kind, and said, satisfiedly : 

“ I think we may now call ourselves safe. I am 
letting the water into the bath-tank, and that will 
make it pretty hard to track us. It will spoil the 
scent for the hounds, at least.” 

Paul now understood the idea, and was still further 
surprised and pleased. 

In a moment or two Abou reversed the wheel and 
came back and picked up the lantern. 

“Now we will go on,” he said. “We shall find a 
more comfortable place than this.” 

Paul gave the Spaniard his arm, and the three, 
Abou in advance, started down the passage. 

It did not prove to be very long, and, in what could 
have been only a minute or so, Abou held up his 
lantern, and its rays fell through the open doorway 
of a small, stone-walled room. It was furnished with 
a low table, an open cupboard, in which could be 
made out some cups and platters and a row of fat 
black bottles, and a number of bundles of rushes. 
Some of these were ranged along the walls and were 
covered with untanned goat or deer skins. In one 


I98 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

corner rose a steep flight of stairs, the termination 
not in view from where Paul stood. 

Abou continued to hold up his light, and the others 
passed him and entered the room. He then closed 
and barred the door. It was now possible for Paul 
to get a more complete idea of the place, which he 
did as soon as he had helped Hanchez to a seat on a 
bundle of the rushes. There was no other furniture, 
and no equipment of the place of any sort except an 
unlighted lantern and what appeared to be a spare 
door-bar. This was a short affair, made of iron, like 
the one already in place. The flight of stairs, or 
rather its termination, next came in for attention, 
and Paul found that it went up into a curious little 
stone cell, in which there was no window and no 
apparent door. This upper space was not over four 
feet square. 

While Paul was making these observations, Abou 
had crossed over to the cupboard, and from some 
depths within had taken out a couple of long-stemmed 
pipes and some lighting materials. With these and 
a pouch of tobacco that he took from an inner pocket, 
he came back and sat down. 

It was clear that a bit of patience was now to be 
practised, and Paul quietly picked out a couple of the 
bundles, and stretched himself on them. 

Abou filled and lighted Hanchez’s pipe for him, 
and then crossed his own legs anew, and was appar- 
ently ready to answer questions. Paul, of course, had 
several ready, and the first was, when it would be 
possible for him to venture out. 


a conspirator’s resources. 199 

“ Possibly not till to-morrow night,” was the an- 
swer, “ but I rather think in an hour or two. This 
mob will be reinforced by the regular military, and a 
pretty thorough search will be made. I will go out 
after a time and see how the land lies, and will come 
back and report. But it will hardly do for me to go 
now, for most likely I should be arrested, if not worse 
used. By and by the mob will cool down a little, 
and the guards will interfere and clear the place, and 
then it may be time. I know most of the officers of 
the military companies, and if I could see them apart, 
when the mob is not clamouring for blood, I could 
quiet them. Besides, I have a little influence with 
some of those at court.” 

“ Oh, don’t go till you think best,” answered Paul, 
unhesitatingly. “This is a good anchorage, and no 
use to leave it till the weather quiets.” 

“ I see you have coolness and patience, which, with 
courage, carry a man a long way toward success,” 
said Abou, with a complimentary glance. “Well, 
what would you like to know next ? I suppose how 
I intend to get you out of this place, when the time 
comes ? ” 

“ Yes,” assented Paul ; “ that was what I was going 
to ask.” 

“Allah so ordered it,” said Abou, with a smile, 
“that a man who was a greater conspirator than I 
am owned this house before I did, and sold me its 
secrets with it. The consequence is that I can 
answer your question to your satisfaction. That 
little nook at the top of the stairs is made in my 


200 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


easterly garden wall, and, consequently, the secret 
exit from it opens directly upon the street. Of 
course I mean the street that runs at right angles 
with the one by which you reached the house, or 
rather the garden. The first right-hand turn from 
this street takes you into a narrow alley, and this 
leads you into other alleys, and so on to the harbour. 
You will have to cross but one important street on 
the way. My present thought is that you can take 
advantage of the dark time just before sunrise, and 
by being careful reach your boat.” 

“That looks like a plain course,” said Paul, much 
pleased. He reflected a moment, and then added, as 
the generous thought struck him : “ But what will 
you do with the captain, here ? ” 

“ I shall wait till the flurry is over, and then take 
him back to my private rooms,” answered Abou. 
“ There I shall keep him, of course maintaining the 
secret trap ready for use, till I can settle his case 
with those interested. I think that I shall easily be 
able to buy him from the heirs of the renegade, and 
when that is done there will be no trouble in sending 
him back to Spain.” 

“ I am glad to hear that,” said Paul, with generous 
heartiness. “ But how did Captain Hanchez happen 
to be so fortunate as to make such a friend of you ? ” 
he went on, curiously. 

“That,” said Abou, with one of his grave smiles, 
“was a very simple matter. He saved my brother’s 
life, — my brother had fallen overboard from a fishing- 
boat, — and afterward treated him with great kind- 


a conspirator’s resources. 


201 


ness. I am bound to repay him, and shall try to 
do so.” 

“ It was a lucky piece of humanity for him,” said 
Paul, smiling. He was, however, not a little im- 
pressed. “ These Arabs never forget a kindness or 
an injury,” he thought. 

Captain Hanchez now joined in the conversation, 
and added some explanations about the incident of 
saving Abou’s brother’s life. He also detailed sev- 
eral events in his own rather melancholy history, end- 
ing with his capture by the corsairs. During this 
time there had been a slight increase in the noises 
heard faintly outside, but finally these had died away 
again, and it was quieter than it had been at any 
time before. 

“ I believe that I will take a peep outside, and see 
how matters look,” said Abou, starting up. “Allah 
grant that the meddlesome rascals have gone about 
their business and left the coast clear ! ” 

He put aside his pipe as he spoke, and crossed 
over and took from the floor what Paul had taken for 
the spare door-bar. Holding this in his hand, he 
picked up one of the goat-skins, and with it com- 
pletely hooded the lantern. That done, he made his 
way to the stairs, and with soft, slapping steps could 
be heard to mount to the top. Everything was still 
for a moment, but then Paul could hear him at work 
with the bar, by the sound, prying at a large and 
heavy stone. It was now a pretty trying interval, 
for there was a chance to be discovered, and Paul sat 
up in his place and anxiously listened. Sounds from 


202 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


without could only gain admittance to the place — 
other than in a faint, far-off way — through the little 
chinks in that part of the garden wall that was imme- 
diately over the space at the head of the stairs. 
These chinks had purposely been left in order to 
supply air to the room ^and passage, and they were 
small in size, though numerous. 

As Paul listened, he could hear nothing except the 
little picking and slight rubbing or grinding noise, 
made by Abou, and a faint, far-off murmur, that 
seemed to come from a distant part of the town. 
After a few seconds more, Abou ceased to make any 
noise, and Paul felt sure that he must have finished 
his task. This was confirmed when the Arab slipped 
softly down the stairs, and whispered through the 
darkness, “All ready. The coast is clear.” 

Paul sprang up and stopped only to feel out the 
Spaniard’s hand. 

“ A diosy senor ! ” he whispered. 

“ Adios ! ” answered the man, feelingly. “ All good 
angels guard you, senor ! ” 

A few soft, long steps, and Paul was across the 
room and at the heels of the shadowy figure of the 
Arab. A faint light was now coming through an 
opening above, and, as Paul neared the top, a breath 
of warm, out-of-door air blew in his face. 

“ Climb through. I will follow you and close the 
hole,” whispered Abou. 

Paul slipped through the opening, which was per- 
haps three feet in height and as many across. The 
lower edge was not above four feet from the street. 


203 


a conspirator’s resources. 

He therefore landed at once upon the ground below. 
Abou scrambled quickly after, and hastily put out 
his hand. 

“ Good-by ! Allah be with you ! Should you be 
taken, I will try to be of use to you, and 'will contrive, 
some way, to get word to your captain.” 

Paul saw that the leave-taking must be short, and, 
with a strong shake of the hand and a hearty word of 
farewell and gratitude, he darted away. Once more 
he was thrown upon his own resources, and was 
alone among thousands of bitter and suspicious 
enemies. 

“But I’ll see the old ship and all hands again, not- 
withstanding, or else make somebody uncomfortable,” 
he muttered, resolutely ; and he slipped at a dog-trot 
along the street, till he could see the opening of the 
narrow alley. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. 


A CQUAINTED as he was with the town, Paul 
had no great difficulty in keeping pretty well 
out of sight till he was near the wall opposite the 
bashaw’s castle. Here he had to cross a compara- 
tively wide street, and pass near a guard of soldiers. 
Boldly pushing along, he put on a careless and indif- 
ferent air, and succeeded in reaching the obscure 
alley beyond without exciting suspicion. The night, or 
rather the morning, was still pretty dark, and it was a 
time when few people were abroad, but yet the situ- 
ation was full of danger. The very fact that so few 
persons were stirring would call attention to him, 
were he seen by the city guards, and it was extremely 
doubtful if he could make a bold story carry him 
through, as it had done before. Besides, he could 
not keep on to the spot where he meant to scale the 
wall without crossing one or two rather wide, open 
streets, and at or near by these points was pretty 
sure to be a detail of the city watch. However, this 
was no time to hesitate, and with every faculty on the 
alert, he slipped quietly and rapidly along, and finally 
reached the first of the wide streets that it was neces- 
sary to cross. He knew that there was more shadow of 


204 


AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. 205 

buildings a little farther to the south, and nearer the 
water front, but, on the other hand, here would be 
more soldiers, for it was from the direction of the har- 
bour, chiefly, that the town had reason to fear its foes. 
On the land side, difficult ground to conduct military 
operations on, and an unhealthy climate for those not 
inured to it, made the defence strong. Moreover, 
there was the danger to assailants of an attack from 
the rear by the fierce mountain Moors. Therefore, 
the side and landward walls of the city were not so 
carefully guarded as the front, and were, besides, 
in places, out of repair, and not difficult — from the 
inside — to scale. Paul had in mind one of these 
favourable spots, and walked steadily toward it. He 
soon came upon the first of the side streets, which he 
crossed in safety. The other was not far off, and it 
was now too near morning to think of skirting it to 
find an especially favourable place to cross. He kept 
on boldly, and at last saw the glimmer of a wall lan- 
tern, and started off, diagonally, finally coming out 
into the street about midway between two of the lan- 
terns. A soldier was walking up and down, near by, 
and sang out a careless challenge, but Paul answered 
boldly, “ One of the bashaw’s slaves,” and was allowed 
to proceed. The most of the danger now seemed to 
be over, and with a much lighter heart he pushed on, 
and finally came to the city wall. There were steps, 
at regular intervals, to mount to the top, but each of 
them, as he was aware, was guarded by a soldier, and 
his plan must be to find one of the several broken 
and neglected places, and do his climbing there. He 


20 6 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


knew every feature of this part of the wall, and it 
took him only a few minutes to find such a place as 
he had in mind, and to work cautiously to the top. 
Here he crouched low, for he could not tell what 
watchful guard might suddenly come poking along, 
lantern in hand. The next move must be to find a 
place to descend, which meant sqme spot where there 
were breaks and cracks down a little distance on the 
outer side of the wall, so that he might considerably 
shorten the necessary jump. He did not have to 
search far to find one of these places, and crawled 
down some little distance before the wall again 
became whole. He knew that the ground below was 
sandy and rather soft, and though he could not make 
it out, and the sensation was like jumping into a 
black pit, he unhesitatingly worked his body as far as 
he could around and let himself go. 

He alighted without harm, and in a moment was 
on his feet again, and darting away. At last he 
could begin to feel that he was slipping out of peril, 
and that he should soon see the black side of the 
Constitution loom up ahead. 

He was fairly running, now, slipping and plunging 
at times, to be sure, but never losing his feet. He 
skirted the immediate shore, passed at a distance and 
in safety the soldiers in the farther fort, and then 
finally turned and came down to the beach. He 
passed a well-remembered rock, — one of several 
large ones hereabouts, — and struck into a little nat- 
ural path between two projecting ledges. It was 
somehow intensely dark just here, the ledges looking 


AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. 207 

as black as ink, and he could not see where the water 
began. But he could hear and feel, for at this mo- 
ment something scratched or scrambled among the 
rocks, and before he could as much as halt a hand 
rubbed along his elbow and then instantly grasped 
his arm. 

He was considerably startled and a little fright- 
ened, but he was not wholly jostled out of his pres- 
ence of mind. The hand had hardly closed upon his 
arm before he wrenched himself free, and with a 
swift dive into his pocket pulled out his clasp-knife 
and snapped it open. 

A deep voice muttered something in Arabic, as he 
did this, and he heard the hammer of some firearm 
click. He instantly squat and steadied himself by 
one hand, and as he did so the unknown hailed him. 

“ Who are you, and where are you bound ? ” 

Instead of answering, Paul crawled a step back- 
wards and then leaned half over the right-hand face 
of the ledge. He had in mind the shot from a gun 
or pistol that was to be expected. It was a bit of 
Yankee shrewdness, and he had his reward, for at 
that moment the gun — it was a gun — went off, and 
the bullet tore the waistband above his left hip. 

The man probably thought that his shot had told, 
for he gave a grunt of satisfaction and started for- 
ward. As he did so another voice farther away 
hailed, and a light came dancing along the rocks. 
Paul had evidently stumbled upon a small force of 
the shore patrol, and was in the greatest peril that 
he had been since his fight with the renegade. 


208 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


But he was a young man who could both think 
and act. He understood full well that he must dis- 
pose of his first foe at once if he would secure the 
chance to make a break for his boat. Therefore he 
simply stooped a little, as the Moor came on, and 
then leaped like a panther forward, and drove his 
knife straight at the man’s outlined shape. 

The blade encountered some hard substance, and 
glanced partly off, yet it must have pierced flesh, 
also, for the man cried out with pain, and with that 
he plunged against Paul, and flung his long, weighty 
arms about the young sailor. 

Now did Paul’s practice in wrestling and his ex- 
traordinary quickness and ready strength stand him 
in good stead. He ducked quickly, got the under hold, 
forgot to stab with his knife, in the anxiety to get in 
a good trip, and was rewarded by catching the Moor 
with a hip-lock and sending him with a tremendous 
crash upon his back. 

But the knife had slipped away somewhere, and 
there was nothing to kill or disable the fellow with, 
and what was more, he could hear the other man 
clattering over the near-by rocks. Paul was now 
fairly desperate, and he gave a wrench that tore off 
his beaten antagonist’s rather slack hold, and as the 
man — still terribly shaken with his fall — tried to 
rise, he let drive a short, furious face punch. 

It did the work, and sent the man flat again, and 
Paul leaped to his feet. The other guard was now 
within ten yards. Luckily the sky at this moment 
cleared a bit and objects around came out, and Paul 


AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. 209 

got a glimpse of the space of ledges and shore ahead 
of him. He cleared the fallen Moor at a bound, 
ducked instinctively as he turned his back on the 
approaching man, heard the crack of the fellow’s gun 
and felt a bullet hum by his head. In ten seconds 
more he was treading the hard slope of the beach, and 
was away almost at a hound’s speed. 

He could not stop to look around and get his bear- 
ings, but he knew to a rough calculation which way 
to head, and in another minute or so he was pulling 
up beside his boat. Looking back, now, he found 
that he had squarely outrun his pursuer, but that the 
man was still coming on, and that two or three more 
lanterns were dancing that way from a point farther 
back. Without losing an instant he threw the heavy 
stone from the painter, shoved the boat down and 
into the water and jumped aboard. 

It was growing decidedly lighter now, and while 
this was a gain in some ways it was a drawback in 
others. The soldiers, who had increased their speed, 
were by this time only a few yards away, and he was 
a fairly plain mark for their guns. He caught up 
his paddle and got the boat in motion, but at that 
moment the men — there were three of them — 
pulled up and levelled their guns. Paul threw himself 
forward, and the bullets flew a number of feet above 
his head. Up he jumped again, and now deliber- 
ately exchanged his paddle for the oars. The shore 
batteries were still to be passed, though not at close 
quarters, and he hoped that those who manned them 
would not be seasonably or sufficiently aroused to 


210 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


take a part in the affair. As soon as the men saw 
that they had missed their mark, two of them put 
down their guns and rushed desperately into the 
water, and the third put his lantern on a rock and 
began hastily to reload. 

The two soldiers pushed out and took a few 
strokes, but by that time realised the folly and hope- 
lessness of this kind of chase, and suddenly swung 
about and pushed back to the shore. 

The man who was loading his gun was by this 
time well along, and he soon shook in the priming, 
and brought the gun to his shoulder. Paul again 
felt tempted to duck, but time was precious, and he 
had a poor opinion of the man’s skill, so he remained 
upright. The risk seemed to be justified, for the 
bullet flew high overhead. 

This was probably the last that would be heard 
from that quarter, and Paul next turned his attention 
to the shore batteries. There were a few lights mov- 
ing about in two of them, but nothing else in the least 
alarming could be discerned. He continued to tug 
away at the oars, and finally approached the mouth 
of the harbour. The sky now grew still lighter and 
clearer, and as he just then turned his head and looked 
anxiously seaward, he made out a sail. His heart gave 
an excited bound, at this, and he faced back and 
pulled with renewed energy. In a short time he was 
in one of the channels, and another look showed the 
mere patch of white canvas grown to the well-defined 
sails of a good-sized brig. He had her comprehen- 
sively in view, for she was beating up the channel, 


AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. 


21 


and showing a distinct slant of her hull and sails. 
He knew all the vessels of the fleet so well that he 
did not have to hesitate to call her the Argus , and 
he impulsively jumped to his feet and gave a lusty 
cheer. 

He dropped back again, and once more gripped his 
oars, but as he did so a faint noise came from the 
direction of the vessel, and then, with a trumpet, a 
powerful voice hailed : 

“ Boat ahoy ! ” 

He was surprised that the sound of the cheer had 
travelled so far, though to be sure it was carried 
along by the wind, but he was on his feet in a 
twinkling and roaring his answer back. 

A gun on the brig went off, as a further response, 
and at once the sails were shaking and the hull was 
narrowing, as the bows came toward the wind. 

Paul had collected himself now, and sat coolly in 
his place, as the brig came ploughing her way up. 

Speedily she was at hand and luffing, and Paul 
pulled alongside and caught the line that a sailor 
near the weather fore-braces promptly sent snaking 
to him. 

“ Glad to see you ! ” called down Hull himself, here 
appearing at the quarter-rail. “ I had begun to think 
we had lost you.” 

“ Thank you, sir, but I am all right,” answered 
Paul, as he secured the line. 

The crew were now lining the bulwarks, and 
several of them whisked the boat up to the side 
and took charge of her as Paul sprang out. A mo- 


212 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


ment later he was on the quarter-deck, returning 
Hull’s hearty greeting. 

“ We’ve kept an eye peeled for you,” said the 
officer, “and we made you out as soon as you got 
fairly clear of the shore. We heard the firing, and 
I was heading in a bit, so as to try to help you. It 
was you, I suppose, that they were firing at ? ” 

Paul explained about this, and incidentally gave 
the main points of what had happened after he had 
escaped from the town. 

Hull was greatly interested, and complimented him 
on his pluck and coolness, which he said would have 
done credit to any man in the service. When these 
explanations were made, — the brig being by this 
time again on her course, — Hull went on and asked 
some further questions, in the end getting the gist 
of the story. He stopped, however, at the result of 
Paul’s mission, for that was “ official business,” and 
was not to be known till it had been communicated 
at headquarters. 

The other vessels of the fleet were cruising just 
outside, and the brig had hardly cleared the channel 
before the flagship turned her bow that way, and 
soon came within hailing distance. The trumpets 
carried the questions and answers back and forth, 
and in a few moments Paul was notified that he was 
wanted on board. Of course he was ready, and im- 
mediately a boat was lowered and manned and he 
was taken over to the frigate. As he came up the 
side he found the officer of the deck ready for him, 
and after he had saluted and reported himself 


AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. 


213 


aboard, he was ordered to proceed forthwith to the 
cabin. 

' “ We are all glad to see you safe back,” added the 
officer, in a kindly undertone, as Paul started to obey 
the order. 

“ Thank you, sir,” responded Paul, not a little 
touched. 

“You must be prepared to hear some bad news,” 
then, to Paul’s surprise, went on the officer. “Your 
father is quite sick. As soon as you have made your 
report you can go to him. He is in his hammock, as 
he didn’t want to go to the sick bay.” 

Paul’s satisfaction and the secret elation that he 
had begun to feel at his success died out as he heard 
this. He understood now why his father was not 
among those around, which he had not before been 
able to account for. For the moment the captain and 
the message that was waiting were forgotten. 

“ Do you mean — you don’t mean that he is dan- 
gerously sick, do you, sir?” he halted and almost 
appealingly asked. 

“ Oh, no ; or at least, I think he is in no danger 
at present,” answered the lieutenant, reassuringly. 
“ I believe it is a moderately severe case of 
paralysis.” 

“ But that is bad enough,” said Paul, with a pained 
breath. “ Poor father ! It doesn’t seem possible ! 
I did not think of anything happening to him.” 

He was still almost dazed with the suddenness and 
painfulness of the news, and did not notice that the 
lieutenant was glancing uneasily up the deck. 


214 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“Yes, I must go to him as soon as I can,” he said, 
speaking rather to himself than to the officer. “Just 
as soon as - — Beg pardon, sir, I forgot what I was 
about ! ” 

He was off for the quarter-deck at a run, suddenly 
alive to the fact that the captain of a man-of-war, no 
matter what may happen, must not be kept waiting. 
He found Preble sitting at the end of the long table, 
and went through the usual performance of halting 
and coming to the proper pose, winding up with a 
salute. 

“You have kept me waiting at least fifty seconds,” 
said the martinet officer, glancing at his watch. “ I 
must warn you to be more prompt, or you will lose 
the favour that you might otherwise gain. Now what 
have you to report ? ” 

Paul did not stop to excuse his tardiness. He 
rightly judged that the less said about the matter 
the better, and besides, he guessed that Preble knew 
well enough what had detained him. He therefore 
plunged at once into his report. He gave a brief yet 
comprehensive account of what he had done, speak- 
ing in a modest strain, and dwelling mainly on the 
work accomplished, rather than how he had accom- 
plished it. 

The veteran captain heard him through with close 
and keen attention, not once interrupting him. 

“ I don’t see but that covers the ground,” was 
Preble’s comment, as Paul finished. “In fact, I 
may say that you have made a very clear and satis- 
factory report. Now come here and look on this 


AN UNEXPECTED MISFORTUNE. 


215 


map, and let me make certain that I have followed 
you.” 

Ten minutes of pointing and thumbing over this 
and another map sufficed. 

“That will do,” said Preble, taking the weights 
from the edges of the maps and letting them roll 
up. “My ideas are clear now. You may go, but 
first I will say that I am very well satisfied with you, 
and that I shall keep you in mind with the view to 
doing something for you.” 

“Very kind of you, sir, and I thank you,” said 
Paul, once more knuckling and scraping. 

He was free to go, at last, and, with growing 
anxiety concerning his father, he proceeded as fast 
as respect for his superior would permit back to the 
deck. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


WO or three of the watch were hanging about 



J- waiting for him, no doubt curious to hear his 
yarn, but he disregarded their undertone hails and 
hurried along. He merely shook his head for a sole 
answer. On the deck below, near a gun, was slung 
his father’s hammock, and toward this he swiftly 
made his way. The place was nearly dark, for all 
lights were long since put out, but a little dim glim- 
mer of the new day was coming in at a half-open 
port, and guided partly by this, he finally reached 
his father’s hammock. He moved quietly, both that 
he might not disturb the sick man, if he had fallen 
asleep, and also because the rules of the place 
required it ; but at this moment the figure rounding 
out the hammock stirred, and his father’s voice 
whispered : 

“That you, Paul ? ” 

The words seemed to be spoken in a kind of slow, 
hesitating way, but not in a weak tone, and Paul 
joyfully answered : 

“ Yes. Oh, I am delighted you are no worse ! ” 

He put out his hand and grasped the feeble one 
shoved along to meet it. 


216 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


217 


“I'm glad you’ve come. The master - at - arms 
said they’d fix it so you wouldn’t have to wait 
till morning to see me,” whispered the sick man. 
“ I am pretty badly used up, Paul,” he went on, 
“and I guess there isn’t much of me that’s worth 
saving.” 

“ Oh, you’ll get better — a good deal better,” 
cheerfully insisted Paul. “ We’ll doctor you and 
bring you up.” 

“ Well, we’ll see,” was the evasive and doubting 
answer. “But now, Paul, — how is it with you? 
How did you come out?” 

“ First-rate. Everything went all right, and I 
didn’t receive a scratch. The captain was pleased, 
and said he would keep me favourably in mind.” 

“That’s good,” said the old man, speaking with a 
little more interest. “ But now you’d better turn in. 
You’ve had a hard day, and you must be about used 
up. Get a little sleep while you can.” 

“ I’m not very sleepy, though I suppose after I am 
quieted down I shall be,” answered Paul. “ Isn’t 
there anything I can do for you ? ” 

“Not a thing. Old Sawbones has put me in as 
good shape as I guess is possible. But turn in. It 
will do me the most good to know that you are taking 
care of yourself.” 

“Well, then, I will. Try to get asleep yourself. 
You can, I guess.” 

“ Perhaps so. Good night.” 

“ Good night ! ” 

The two hands lingered for a moment in an affec- 


21 8 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


tionate clasp, and then Paul passed along to his own 
hammock. 

He turned in “ standing,” as it was so near morn- 
ing, and pretty soon dropped asleep, though not till 
he had fought off several disturbing thoughts. One 
was that his father was little likely ever to get up 
and about again, and the other was that if he did he 
would be a hopeless physical wreck, and would need 
constant care and attention. This it must be his 
business to render, and that meant a great sacrifice. 
For it was equivalent to giving up his career in the 
navy, and he was just fairly entering upon that. He 
had become attached to it now, and was making 
plans as to his future in it, and it was hard enough 
to have the whole promising fabric fall to the ground. 
Yet, of course, he would not shirk his duty, and in 
the best sense did not wish to, and he tried to recon- 
cile himself in advance to this view of the situation. 

It was only a short time, as it seemed to him, 
before his sleep was broken by the call down the 
hatchway for the watch. He turned out at once, for 
there is no time for yawning on a man-of-war. His 
first thought, of course, was for his father, and he 
ventured to take the time to step over and make a 
hasty inquiry. To his relief and profound satisfac- 
tion, the old captain was in comparatively cheerful 
spirits and professed to feel considerably better. 
They exchanged a few words, but Paul soon had 
to join the rest of the watch, and he was not able to 
pay another visit below till his morning duties on 
deck were ended. When he finally came down he 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


2I 9 


was prepared to talk with his father about the things 
that were now on his mind, and as he saw that the 
captain seemed well enough and clear enough in his 
faculties to follow him, he began forthwith. 

There is no need to set down the conversation. 
The result was that Paul definitely decided to quit 
the navy and give his whole attention to the care of 
his father. The brave old man said that there was 
no need of this, that he could “ weather it alone” 
and the like, but Paul was firm. He was now able 
to understand better the shape that the sick man was 
in, and he saw that the disease had struck a decisive 
blow. The captain’s right side was partially paralysed, 
and though his speech was not seriously affected, his 
power to move his limbs on that side was almost 
wholly gone. His mind, too, though it had not been 
apparent at first, was a little affected, and he had 
sudden lapses into a dull and apathetic condition, or 
into a mood in which his old-time pluck and courage 
seemed wholly gone. Paul observed all these things 
carefully, and though he was intending to have a talk 
with the surgeon as soon as possible, he was more 
than ever confirmed as to his own decision. 

“Well, then,” said the old captain at last, as he 
finally gave up the argument, “if you are bound to 
go along with me, you must sail for my port. In 
other words, you must go with me to England. 
I want to end my days in Portsmouth.” 

Paul was surprised and a little taken aback at this, 
for he had never doubted but his father would wish 
to return to Philadelphia, and his own plans were 


220 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


made on that basis. This was, therefore, something 
that it seemed he ought to consider a little, but under 
the circumstances he did not hesitate. He readily, 
and with seeming cheerfulness, consented. Just what 
he should do to support the two in England he did 
not know, for the house was about all they owned 
there, and they could take little with them, but he 
kept this thought also to himself. He was at least a 
strong young man with a resolute will and a fair 
share of brains, and he was sure that in some way 
they should get along. At any rate, he would not 
trouble his father by so much as a doubtful look at 
such a time. It now appeared that the sick man, 
with his strength gone, and his mind a little shaken, 
had conceived a fancy (not uncommon in such cases) 
that he should improve in health and feel happier if 
only he could live again amongst the surroundings of 
his early childhood. He had passed most of his boy- 
hood in Portsmouth, and had always felt a sentimental 
liking for the pleasant little old place. 

But it was one thing to make plans and another to 
carry them out. Paul was still in the government 
service, and it was not such an easy matter to secure 
a discharge. True, he could go to the captain, and, 
with the work he had just done to speak for him, 
perhaps effect his purpose, but he did not like to do 
it. There was that about Captain Preble that made 
the asking favours of this kind something not to be 
desired. Exacting of himself in the requirements of 
his station, the veteran had little patience with any 
but a Roman conception of duty. Moreover, it was 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


221 


repugnant to Paul to have to use what he had done 
as a basis for asking a favour. Still, he had made up 
his mind to do his best to carry out his purpose, and 
at present there seemed to be no other road to it 
than through the captain’s consent, so he nerved 
himself to make the effort. But first he saw the 
ship’s surgeon, and got the latter’s opinion as to the 
old captain’s condition. There was little that was 
encouraging to be said, the surgeon declared. Captain 
Woods would doubtless improve from his present 
state, but would always remain crippled and nearly 
helpless, and he was likely to have a second attack 
at any time. The third, as a rule, was fatal. This 
was about what Paul had expected to hear, and he 
thanked the surgeon and returned to his duties. 
There was but one thing now to do, and he finally 
screwed his courage up to the point, and set about it. 

Captain Preble was on the quarter deck, and when 
he was told that Paul wanted to speak with him 
readily gave permission. A moment later the young 
fellow was desperately making known his business. 

Preble watched him sharply as he was speaking, 
and when he had finished remained silent for a 
moment. 

“ I think you have merited what you ask,” he then 
said. “As soon as Captain Barron arrives, so that 
there will be a chance for you to get away, you shall 
have the discharge.” 

Paul was overjoyed, and in a few words, but warmly, 
expressed his gratitude. 

Preble nodded kindly, and Paul hurried away to 


222 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


tell the news to his father. The invalid was delighted, 
and for the moment brightened so that he looked 
almost like his former self. 

Fortunately, their patience was not tried by a long 
delay. On the ioth of September Captain Barron 
and the long-looked-for fleet arrived, and Captain 
Preble at once surrendered the command. He re- 
served the frigate John Adams to carry him and 
those who were to accompany him, and sailed on the 
same day that he finished his business with Captain 
Barron. A few of the men of the Constitution , 
mostly invalids, or those whose term of service had 
expired, went along, and in the list were Captain 
Woods and Paul. The frigate touched at Gibraltar, 
which gave them a chance to transship, and a few days 
afterward they boarded a ship bound for England. 
It should be said here that they parted with their 
former shipmates, Hunt and the others, with regret, 
and with hearty good wishes all around. 

They were now fairly started to carry out their 
new plan* and seemed to have everything favourable 
for doing so. The captain had a little money, and 
Paul had received his pay, so that they were at 
present easy for funds. 

The ship had a smooth passage, and they reached 
Portsmouth in good time, and at once proceeded to 
the captain’s house. It was let to a small family, but 
the head of it had recently died, and his wife was 
intending to move, so that there was no trouble in 
obtaining immediate possession. Meanwhile, they 
lived at a comfortable but inexpensive tavern, and 


4 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


223 


completed a few needed preparations for their new 
life. They finally moved into the house, and arranged 
everything as they had planned, and were ready to 
consider themselves settled down. Paul now bestirred 
himself, and tried to get something to do, and in a 
few weeks secured a very fair business position. It 
was that of assistant “ boss ” for a wealthy ship-rigger, 
and was desirable especially as it gave him all of his 
evenings, and did not take him out of town. Ports- 
mouth is a quaint, interesting place, and Paul liked 
it, and soon felt contented and at home, though of 
course he rather missed the excitement — being 
young and full of spirit — of his former life. But 
most of all he was glad that he had come here because 
his father was so well pleased and contented. The 
poor old man had lost his energy and sanguine spirits, 
and had hardly any desires beyond the simple needs 
of living. Almost his only recreation was sitting in 
his chair by the window, or creeping out to a bench 
by the garden wall and contemplating the sea. 

So matters went quietly on, and there was no 
change of any moment from month to month. Of 
course Paul kept posted in public matters, and he 
was rejoiced when the news came that the fleet before 
Tripoli had finally humbled the bashaw, and forced 
him to sue for peace. But this was not till the 
Americans had effected a diversion on land, and with 
the aid of the exiled Hamet Karamauli had organised 
an army of Arabs and Tripolitans, and were begin- 
ning to drive the bashaw’s forces back toward the 
capital. Then it was that Jussuf Karamauli con- 


224 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


sented to make terms, and a treaty was speedily 
signed. It was not what Captain Rodgers — who 
meanwhile had succeeded Captain Barron — had 
hoped to obtain, but under the circumstances he con- 
sidered it all that he ought to insist upon. By its 
provisions the bashaw agreed to ask no further 
tribute from the United States, or from United States 
vessels, and released all American prisoners then in 
his hands. In return, he received ransom money to 
the amount of sixty thousand dollars. 

Paul heard this news with peculiar satisfaction. 
Not only had the haughty bashaw been humbled and 
his tyranny checked, but it had been done in part 
through the shrewd plan devised by Bainbridge and 
Preble, and carried out with the humble but important 
aid of Paul himself. As to details regarding the 
fighting and the succeeding movements, Paul learned 
little more than what the newspapers and public 
reports furnished. It was not till some time after- 
ward, for instance, that he was able to find out what 
had become of his four original shipmates, and of 
Abou Safi. The sailors, it seemed, got off without 
harm, for they were all discharged in the usual 
manner, after returning to the United States. Abou 
Safi had rather poorer luck. His new master, Hamet 
Karamauli, did not come up to the expectations 
formed of him, and after a little time abandoned his 
attempts to regain his throne, and dropped back into 
his former obscurity. Abou had meanwhile lost a 
part of his property, — the failure of Hamet to regain 
the throne was the cause, as he dared not return to 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


225 


Tripoli, — and he finally left the country, and took 
up his abode again with his own people. It was said 
that he had sufficient money left to make him com- 
fortable in his new circumstances, and finally became 
an influential sheik. As to the fate of the Spanish 
captain, Paul never got any precise information. 
The probability was that he escaped from the city in 
company with Abou. 

All this news did not reach Paul at once, nor even 
in a single year. He picked it up a little at a time, 
and as he happened to get an item from a newspaper, 
or received a letter from home. Some old acquaint- 
ances in Philadelphia, it may be said, exchanged an 
occasional letter with him. 

This war news was the most interesting that he 
heard during a long period. He had no new rela- 
tions or intimate friends to keep the run of, and for 
several years there were no public events of great 
importance. Finally, something that concerned him, 
and that deeply, did happen. One day the old cap- 
tain rambled out for a little walk, and did not return. 
A search disclosed him lying by his favourite bench, 
and quite dead. He had seemingly dropped down in 
his tracks, and died without pain. There was a 
serene look on his face as of one gone pleasantly 
to sleep. 

After this there was nothing in particular to keep 
Paul in England. He wanted to see home again, 
and he felt the old desires for a more active life 
stir within him. He was now twenty-five years old, 
and in the very prime of a splendid and powerful 


226 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


manhood. He had done enough physical labour to 
keep his health, and to prevent his muscles from 
growing soft, and he was a little taller and at least 
fifteen pounds heavier than when he left the Consti- 
tution. As for money matters, he was not badly off, 
for, besides the little home and its contents, he had 
two hundred pounds in cash, and a one-tenth interest 
in a small vessel. The most of this property, other 
than the house, he had earned and saved. It would 
be a short matter to arrange his affairs for leaving, 
for there was little to do besides selling the house 
and its contents, and these he believed he could 
readily do. The little vessel in which he had the 
interest was doing well, and there must be a ready 
purchaser for his share. There was no servant to 
look after or bother about, for an old woman who 
lived close by had come in daily and done the neces- 
sary housework, and she would ask nothing more 
than her pay, and a short notice. 

So Paul decided to yield to his present impulse, 
and set about making his preparations. He did as 
well as he expected in disposing of his house and the 
contents, and of his interest in the vessel, and in a 
week after his father’s death was ready to take ship. 

But after all, he had one matter, and that impor- 
tant, to attend to. His father’s body was to go with 
him, for it was the old captain’s wish to be buried in 
Philadelphia, beside his wife, and this wish was bind- 
ing on Paul. The body was already enclosed in a 
lead casket, and Paul saw the captain of the ship 
with whom he had concluded to engage passage, and 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


227 


induced him to agree to receive the corpse. The 
old fellow was rather unwilling, for he was secretly 
superstitious, and shared in the sailors’ belief that a 
corpse on board brings bad luck, but he was a little 
ashamed to disclose such a weakness, and besides, 
he knew that the owners would overrule him if he 
refused, so he finally, but rather glumly, consented. 
The day of sailing was now at hand, but at the last 
moment an interruption occurred. In some way the 
ship caught fire, and the damage was so serious that 
extensive repairs were necessary, and the voyage was 
indefinitely put off. There was no other vessel in 
port at the time that was due to sail for any part of 
the Pennsylvania or New Jersey coast, and, on the 
whole, it seemed that Paul must postpone his voyage. 
He did this very unwillingly, for he did not easily 
give up a plan that he had once made, and then he 
had a young man’s impatience of delay. But he 
finally got his common sense to bear, and after a few 
days was able to take the disappointment equably. 
About a week later he was taking a turn along one 
of the government piers when a man came to the 
’midship’s rail of a ship that was at the moment 
warping up, and spoke his name. 

“ Hello, Woods!” the man called out. “Which 
way are you bound ? ” 

Paul recognised him at once as a young officer in 
the royal navy, Lieutenant John Bulford. He was 
related to some people that lived near the old cap- 
tain’s cottage, and had spent a part of the previous 
summer visiting them, the visit leading to an acquaint- 


228 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


ance with Paul. The young men were at once at- 
tracted toward each other, and a pleasant friendship 
had sprung up between them. The lieutenant had 
finally been ordered away to join his ship, and this for 
the time broke off the intimacy, but each expressed 
the sincere hope and intention of seeing ther other 
again. Paul was therefore delighted when he found 
out who had hailed him, and shouted back a greeting 
as hearty and cordial as the lieutenant’s. 

“ Wait till I get this old hooker off my hands, and 
I’ll join you,” said Bulford, after a few words more 
had passed. “It’s a job that I was detailed for, and 
I’ve got to finish it. I sha’n’t be long.” 

“All right,” said Paul, taking a seat on the head 
of a spile, and preparing to wait. 

In a few minutes the lieutenant was through with 
his job. 

“ Come up to the Sheet Anchor, and have a pipe 
with me, while we talk,” he said, after they had 
shaken hands. “Or, no,” he went on, with a laugh, 
“ you don’t smoke. Plague take it, nor drink, either ! 
but, come along.” 

“ Oh, yes, I drink something,” said Paul, laughing 
in turn, “ for I am not a miracle, only it’s generally 
water. But this time, if you are particular, you may 
call it ginger beer.” 

“ Hugh ! ” grunted the lieutenant, in affected dis- 
approbation, “ what a brace for a full-grown man ! 
But say,” he broke off, and his expression grew more 
business-like, “ I want to have a little serious talk 
with you. I’ve heard of your father’s death. What 


IN A QUIET HAVEN. 


229 


are your plans for the future ? Have you given up 
your old idea of going back to America ? You know 
you said you meant to do that if your father should 
be taken away.” 

“Yes, I still hang to that idea,” said Paul, “and 
I’ve been making plans to go. In fact, I should have 
gone before this but for a disappointment.” He 
went on and explained the circumstance of the fire 
on the ship, and the consequent delay. 

“I see,” said the lieutenant, after a moment’s 
thought. “Well, but are you in a great hurry to 
carry out this plan ? Are you open to a suggestion 
for something else, first ? ” 

“Why,” answered Paul, somewhat surprised, “that 
depends upon what it is.” 

“I will explain,” returned the lieutenant; “but 
first, let’s have the drinks, for here is the tavern ! ” 
At this point they had reached one of the little 
dingy, low-eaved places that abounded in this part of 
the town. The lieutenant pushed the door open, 
and walked in, and Paul followed. The lieutenant 
apparently had something to say that was worth 
hearing, and Paul was curious to know what it was. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


under st. George’s cross. 

HERE was no one in the room at the time, and 



-A. they had the numerous little tables set about on 
the sanded floor to themselves. The lieutenant chose 
one and pushed a stool along to Paul. They were 
scarcely seated before a young girl, wearing a red 
gown and a kind of “ mob cap,” appeared, and the 
lieutenant gave his order. The ale and beer were 
speedily on the table, and when the girl had van- 
ished again the lieutenant took a long pull at his 
mug and began : 

“ It is nothing very important that I have to say, 
and yet I hope it will interest you. How would you 
like to be shipmate with me ? That would mean a 
cruise as far as the coast of Spain. The Macedonian 
is the ship, and Captain Carden is the skipper.” 

Paul was not exactly taken by surprise at this 
proposition. What the lieutentant had already said 
had paved the way for it. Besides, Paul knew that 
the English naval authorities were at this time mak- 
ing special exertions to add to their ships’ crews. 
They were even resorting with new zeal to the odious 
method of “ ’pressing,” and were paying little atten- 
tion, in doing so, to the rights of individuals or of 


under st. George’s cross. 231 

nations. Several complaints had already been made, 
particularly by the United States, but not much 
attention thus far had been paid to them. He 
was, therefore, not surprised that Lieutenant Bul- 
ford’s ship, the Macedonian , was in want of men, and 
that his friend could probably secure him a berth on 
board of her. This was the more likely as Bulford 
was the third lieutenant of the ship, and belonged to 
a family that was said to have political influence. 

But as to accepting the proposition, — supposing 
that it developed into a definite offer, — that was 
another thing. Paul reflected for a moment. He 
pro’d and con’d the idea in his mind rapidly, and 
at last said : 

“ Of course I should like to take a cruise with 
you, — that is, for the sake of your company, — but 
there are other things to think of. You know one 
matter I regard as almost sacred. I must carry out 
my father’s last wish. If I did anything in the 
way of postponement it would be only for a short 
time.” 

“ Oh, if that’s all,” said the lieutenant, readily, 
and with a gratified look, “ I can soon fix it. We 
are bound no farther than the coast of Spain, and 
will stay there only a brief time. Now, shall I go 
ahead and see if the rest of what I have to say suits 
you ? ” 

“Why, yes,” said Paul, now beginning to grow 
more interested in the plan, and seeing fewer objec- 
tions to it. 

“ Of course the great thing is what kind of berth 


232 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


I can offer you,” went on the lieutenant. “ Well, it 
may not suit you, and I’ll own it isn’t very much. I 
can’t clap an exact name to it, for it’s sort of irregu- 
lar, but the work will be to assist the captain’s clerk. 
The pay will be eight pounds per month.” 

Paul was a little surprised, for he had not looked 
for such an offer as this. He had supposed that he 
might be made a petty officer, and that, at any rate, 
he would be enrolled with the fighting part of the 
ship’s company. Now it seemed that the berth was 
one rather for a landsman, and that he would be 
what is called on shipboard an “ idler.” It was not 
exactly to his mind, and he hesitated. 

“ You don’t precisely fancy the job, eh ? ” queried 
the lieutenant, noticing the look and air. “ Of course 
I know why. Well, let me explain. I can’t get you 
an officer’s berth, and I won’t offer you one that 
would send you forward. I want to help you keep 
the station of a gentleman. If you accept my offer 
you will live aft, get fair pay, and have a good time. 
Hang it, man, I want to see something of you, and I 
can’t if you are at the other end of the ship ! Come, 
strike your fighting colours, and take up with the 
goosequill. You can stand it for once ! ” 

“Well, I guess I can,” said Paul, smiling.' He 
began to think that it would be pleasant to do as the 
lieutenant had said. “ Yes, call it settled,” he added. 
“ I am won over.” 

“ Good ! ” exclaimed Bulford, joyfully. “ That is 
what I wanted to hear. Now the service has a good 
man, and I’m sure of a prim shipmate. We’ll have 


under st. George’s cross. 


233 


you down in black and white before twenty-four 
hours.” 

So the essential part of the business was settled, 
and they emptied their mugs before proceeding fur- 
ther. 

“There’s one thing I’d like to know,” said Paul. 
“ That is, why there is such a berth in your ship as 
captain’s clerk’s assistant ? I never heard of one 
like it before.” 

“Nor I,” answered Bulford, laughing. “The facts 
of the case, though, are these : the clerk is having 
trouble with his eyes, and the captain likes him, and 
is willing to have things done to favour him. I don’t 
know who pays the bills. That’s all I can tell you.” 

“That’s enough,” said Paul, with a smile. “It’s 
none of my business whether it’s Captain Carden or 
the government that furnishes the pay. But accord- 
ing to whatever way it is, the captain would seem to 
be rather kindhearted.” 

“ Oh, yes,” answered the lieutenant, but with a 
little hesitation. “ I should call him that. Still, he 
has the name of being a pretty severe disciplinarian.” 

“ I think I know what that means,” said Paul, with 
an understanding nod. “ I have served under Captain 
Preble. The boys used to say that he had the inspect- 
ing officers’ gloves bleached when they examined the 
cook’s coppers.” 1 

1 In the daily inspection of the cook’s coppers the inspecting 
officers wore white gloves, and if they were soiled when rubbed 
over the inner surface of the coppers, the cook was punished. 
Sometimes he was flogged. — The Author. 


234 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


This was the beginning of a little chat that ran on 
for ten or fifteen minutes more, and ended as the 
lieutenant bethought himself and looked at his watch. 

“Well, I must go,” he said. “I shall count on 
seeing you to-morrow.” 

He called in the waiter and settled the score, and 
they went out and kept on together to the turn of the 
next street. Before they parted, Paul asked a few 
more questions, and learned one or two things that 
it was rather important for him to know. 

The next morning he settled a few matters still 
remaining of his private business, and before nine 
o’clock was on his way to the ship. She was at 
anchor directly off one of the naval docks, and it was 
a short matter to hire a boatman and have himself 
and his belongings put on board. He found that he 
was expected, as the officer of the deck promptly 
gave him and the boatman permission to come up 
the side, and then sent a messenger boy for Lieutenant 
Bulford. 

The lieutenant was forward, at the moment, but 
quickly appeared in the wake of the boy, and greeted 
Paul cordially. 

“The captain and Mr. Hope — the first lieutenant 
— are ashore,” he said, “ but I was told to look after 
you, so I am ready to take you in hand. Your 
immediate superior, the clerk, will have to tell you 
about your duties, but as he is with the captain, that 
business will have to wait. I can show you below, 
and give you an idea of the general lay of things.” 

Paul thanked him, and paid and dismissed his boat- 


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“SHE WAS AT ANCHOR DIRECTLY OFF ONE OF THE NAVAL 

DOCKS.” 





UNDER ST. GEORGE’S CROSS. 235 

man. The lieutenant then detailed a man to bring 
along Paul’s small “kit,” and led the way below. 

The Macedonian was a thirty-eight-gun frigate, 
which meant a fair-sized ship for that day, and Paul, 
before he left the deck, noticed how well she was 
sparred, and how stanchly and solidly she seemed to 
be built. Her decks, of course, were still rather 
dirty, and were not yet cleared of the general litter 
incident to sailing, but everything to be seen indicated 
that she had recently been overhauled and was in 
excellent repair. Her bulwarks were rather high, 
and were pierced for their length (after the English 
fashion) for guns, those on this deck being long 1 8- 
pounders. There was also a 12-pounder on the fore- 
castle. 

On reaching the deck below, Paul found a large 
wardroom, — it would have been on the third or lower 
gun-deck, in a ship of the line, — the cook’s quarters, 
the sick bay, and the brig. Between the wardroom 
and the galley was the usual space for slinging ham- 
mocks, and, of course, along each side was lashed a 
row of guns. These were short 32-pounders. 

“You will mess here,” said the lieutenant, nodding 
toward the wardroom. “ I have secured that favour 
for you, though at first it was decided that you be- 
longed on the next deck. We will now go down 
there, and I will show you your sleeping-berth.” 

This proved to be one of several small cabins that 
formed a double row in the wings of the after-deck. 
Amidships was the cockpit, and forward the steerage, 
the boatswains’, gunners’, sailmakers’, and carpenters’ 


236 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

quarters, and the storerooms. There was another 
hatch in this after-deck, as Paul observed, and he 
knew that it led to the hold, where, of course, were 
the magazines. 

“This is your berth,” said the lieutenant, opening 
one of the larboard cabins. 

It was a small place, but seemed to be comfortably 
furnished and clean-smelling, and Paul was very well 
satisfied. 

The sailor stowed away the kit, and was dismissed, 
and the lieutenant and Paul returned to deck. 

“ I must now leave you to yourself for awhile,” 
Mr. Bulford said, after they had exchanged a few 
words more. “ I must finish that stowing-away job. 
I suppose that you’ll be able to pass the time till 
you’re wanted ? ” 

“No doubt of it,” answered Paul, “and don’t lose 
another minute on my account.” 

Mr. Bulford then went back to the forward deck, 
and Paul strolled on in his wake as far as the middle 
of the larboard gangway. There he stopped, and, 
from a comfortable leaning-place against the rail, 
watched the men at their work. It reminded him of 
old times to see them flying about, and really gave 
him an inspiring little thrill. It was perhaps half an 
hour later that one of the quartermasters reported to 
the officer of the deck that a boat was approaching, 
and Paul crossed hastily to the other side, and was 
just in season to hear the official announcement that 
it was the captain’s. 

In a few moments the boat was fast, and the cap- 


under st. george’s cross. 237 

tain and his party came with due ceremony over the 
side. 

Captain Carden was at this time a little past forty, 
and was a dignified but rather urbane looking gentle- 
man, of good carriage and figure. His hair and 
whiskers were tinged with gray, but his colour 
was good, and his expression, notwithstanding his 
reserve, was keen and wide-awake. He was dressed 
in the showy uniform of a British naval cap- 
tain of the day, consisting of a cocked hat, blue 
coat and waistcoat, the first with scarlet and buff 
trimmings, white breeches, white stockings, and 
shoes with silver buckles. Two gilded epaulets 
called attention to his rank, and he wore, besides, 
a handsome sword, suspended from a shoulder-belt 
of blue velvet. 

In his wake was Mr. Hope, who proved to be a 
broad-shouldered, well-built man, in age somewhat 
younger than the captain, and showing no gray in his 
hair and whiskers. He had a resolute, but rather 
stern look, and his clean-shaven chin had an aggres- 
sive and bulldog-like squareness. He was dressed 
somewhat like the captain, but, of course, with the 
modifications required by his rank, and was certainly 
a trim, efficient-looking officer. 

The clerk came next, and Paul found that he was 
a plump, fair-haired, and fair-skinned man, in age 
perhaps forty, and having a look of good-nature, 
though just now his brows were contracted from 
a squint with which he was protecting his eyes. 
He was dressed in a “ shore suit ” of fine brown 


238 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

cloth, and wore on his head a high-crowned fur 
hat. 

The captain exchanged a few words with Mr. Bul- 
ford, who, meanwhile, had left his work and come 
aft, and then went below, first, hbwever, glancing 
at Paul. His clerk soon followed him, and Mr. 
Hope then accompanied Mr. Bulford to the fore- 
castle. 

Paul was now left to himself again, and began to 
feel the time drag on his hands, though this may 
have been, in part, because he was growing anxious 
to have the business of the formal appointment to his 
position over with. 

But he did not have to wait long. In half an hour 
he was sent for, and it will shorten matters to say 
that he was duly entered on the captain’s book as 
“assistant clerk,” and was then turned over to his 
new superior. The duties that were required did not 
prove difficult or arduous, and in another fifteen 
minutes Paul was qualified to begin. 

Meanwhile the captain was pushing on his prep- 
arations for sailing, and while Paul was still looking 
at the clerk’s books the anchor began to come out of 
the mud and the sails were loosened. 

“I shall not need you any more just at present,” 
the clerk then said, and Paul took advantage of the 
release and went back to the deck. 

Mr. Hope was rapidly putting canvas on the ship, 
and with a wind not much forward of the beam she 
was making a white-lashed way of it seaward. At a 
glance it was apparent that she was a good sailer, 


under st. George’s cross. 239 

and Paul smiled approval as he ran his look up at the 
snow-fields of sails, and along the swaying but never 
sharply inclined deck. 

He was observing these things, his mind at the 
moment withdrawn from all else, when he thought 
he heard his name called. 

He turned and found that one of the crew had 
paused in scouring some “ bright work,” and was 
looking at him. 

A little surprised, he walked that way and an- 
swered : 

“ You seem to know my name. I don’t remember 
that I ever saw you before. What is it ? ” 

“ Don’t pay such p’tic’lar ’tention to me, sir, and 
I’ll tell ye,” returned the man, as he spoke bending 
with seeming assiduity over his work. 

Paul was aware what the discipline of a war-ship 
was, and he knew that Captain Carden was especially 
strict, so he feigned to look carelessly around, and 
answered : 

“ All right. Go ahead.” 

“You are an American, sir, and so be I,” the man 
then said. “ There’s several more of us aboard, too. 
I guess we are all interested in the news that’s goin’. 
They say our country and England has gone to war.” 

“ What ! ” cried Paul, greatly startled. 

“That’s what they say,” persisted the man. 

“ Where did you hear it ? ” Paul still half-incredu- 
lously and yet anxiously asked. 

“ One of the crew of the cap’n’s gig picked it up,” 
readily answered the man. “He was sent ashore for 


240 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


somethin’, and heard two men talkin’ of it over. It 
seems it’s us that has declared the war. We mean 
to stop the ’pressin’ of men off’n our ships.” 

Paul’s doubting expression gradually faded away. 

“ Perhaps you may be right,” lie finally said. “ It 
is time that our people stopped these outrages, 
though I had hoped it wouldn’t take war to do 
it.” 

“ Well,” returned the man, with a glance around, 
“ I only wish I was back ashore. I know what I’d 
do. But they’ve got us, as it ’pears.” 

“Yes, we can do nothing but wait,” answered 
Paul. “That may not be for a very long time, 
though.” 

At this point one of the petty officers came along, 
and Paul thought it prudent to walk away. He was 
roused and startled at what he had heard, and wanted 
time to think the matter over. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


MATTERS GROW EXCITING. 

I T was not long before Mr. Bulford came on deck, 
and Paul, his mind now made up, walked toward 
him. 

“Well,” said the lieutenant, pleasantly, as they 
met, “how are things going ? ” 

“ I am not sure but they might go consider- 
ably better,” answered Paul, rather gravely. “ I have 
heard some things that trouble me.” 

“Ah!” said the lieutenant, but not exactly show- 
ing the surprise that might have been expected, 
“ what are the things ? ” 

“ Is it true ? ” asked Paul, now speaking a little 
sternly, “that war has broken out between England 
and the United States ? ” 

The lieutenant sobered, in his turn. 

“ There have been rumours to that effect,” he 
finally answered, reluctantly. 

“ And you did not tell me, but allowed me — en- 
couraged me — to come on this cruise ? ” said Paul, 
in a tone of mingled indignation and reproach. 

“Look, here, Woods,” broke out the officer with a 
troubled gesture, “ don’t put it in that harsh way ; I 
am not to blame. I did hear the news, but only at 
241 


242 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

the last moment, and then I wasn’t at liberty to tell. 
What would you have had me do ? I didn’t suppose 
you wanted to enlist in the American navy, and I 
couldn’t see how you could be harmed by coming on 
this cruise. I was selfish^ perhaps, and wanted your 
company, but I don’t think you should be very hard 
on me for that.” 

Paul’s expression softened, for there was reason as 
well as an appeal not easily resisted in the words. 

“ Of course, that makes a difference,” he answered. 
“You couldn’t disclose what you were expected to 
know only in your official capacity.” 

“And yet, if I didn’t explain, how could I fix it so 
as to help you any ? ” followed up the lieutenant. 
“ Come, man, be reasonable. I did feel a bit uncom- 
fortable about the affair, but I couldn’t see what 
other thing I was to do.” 

“Well, let it drop,” said Paul, with a little sigh. 
“ It would have made a difference if I had known. I 
will be frank to say that. And now what about the 
news ? Just when did you hear it and how much 
did you hear ? ” 

The lieutenant was evidently pleased that his 
friend was mollified. He answered, readily : 

“ Since you know so much I might as well tell the 
rest. The United States declared war against us on 
the 1 8th of June. Captain Carden was ordered to 
go on with the preparations for cruise, and to sail 
when ready, not imparting the news, meanwhile, to 
the crew. It was hoped that he might get away 
before the matter became public, and so save pos- 


MATTERS GROW EXCITING. 


243 


sible trouble with the men. They included you with 
them in the order, as you were an American. This I 
was sorry for, as I knew well enough how you would 
feel. Well, and about the rest of the news, there 
isn’t much. The Yankees — that is, I mean the 
Americans — are pretty mad with us, they say, and 
have promised to give us a licking, though they 
haven’t said just how they were going to do it. We 
understand that they sent several frigates to sea 
about as soon as Congress issued its proclamation, 
so we may expect to hear of trouble pretty soon. 1 I 
am sorry for the whole thing, but it can’t be helped, 
so we must take it as we find it.” 

Paul gravely nodded, though there was something 
not quite full acquiescence in his look. 

“You are right,” he said, calmly. “Nothing can 
be done. We people here are caught, and must make 
the best of it. At least, we must for the present.” 

The lieutenant threw an uneasy glance at him. 

“ I hope you are not going to make too much of 
this, Paul. No matter how you feel, you can’t be 
meaning to go to extremes. If you should — I am 
sure you won’t get yourself into trouble.” 

“ I am obliged to you for your friendship,” said 
Paul, quickly. The real kindness behind the lieuten- 
ant’s words touched him. “ I will promise not to go 

1 This is an illustration of the slow way in which news travelled in 
those days. The Constitution and the Guerriere fought on August 
19th, yet though the Macedonian did not leave Portsmouth till 
September 29th, the news had not been received then. — The 
Author . 


244 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


to extremes,” he went on, “ though I can’t promise 
to forget what I have heard, and go on willingly with 
the voyage. To be perfectly frank, if a good oppor- 
tunity offered I would escape.” 

"Well, I don’t blame you for that,” said Bulford, 
readily, “and I shouldn’t make a very desperate 
effort to stop you. At the same time, I am not 
worrying at present about your attempting it.” 

He looked significantly around and at the open 
sea, as he spoke. 

“Oh, I sha’n’t jump overboard and try to swim 
ashore,” said Paul, trying now to be pleasant as well 
as cool. “I’ll wait till some easier chance appears.” 

Bulford smiled, and appeared to think that this 
as good as disposed of the matter. Paul therefore 
changed the subject, and the little that followed was 
about light and mutually agreeable matters. 

After this short but important incident, nothing of 
note happened for awhile, and the Macedonian went 
quietly on with her cruise. Paul, though at times a 
little sober, did not reopen the old subject, and the 
lieutenant took good care to avoid it. It was not 
long, to be sure, before it was a matter of common 
talk among the crew, and when this was apparent the 
officers freely discussed it, though not intentionally in 
the presence of the men. Of course Paul now began 
to find his position rather unpleasant, for the ward- 
room officers, though they liked him and did not 
intend — or most of them did not — to hurt his 
feelings, still indulged in free denunciations of his 
country, and were sure to assert that at last she 


MATTERS GROW EXCITING. 245 

was to receive what she so well deserved, — a sound 
thrashing. 

Paul managed to endure this talk with the neces- 
sary patience, though at times he was severely tried, 
and resolutely kept his mouth shut, as one odious 
thing after another was passed around. To be sure, 
he could not help acknowledging to himself that 
possibly there was a single assertion which might 
prove true, and that was that his country would be 
beaten. He knew something about the British navy, 
and their talks enlightened him further, and he was 
aware that the king had at this time ten hundred 
and forty-eight ships, while the United States had 
but seventeen. He knew, also, that England had, 
in American waters alone, about one hundred and 
twenty ships. This was a fearful disparity, even 
remembering that the American vessels were a little 
larger and stronger, ship for ship, than the English, 
and that the merchant marine could furnish a fair 
number of vessels suitable for small cruisers or pri- 
vateers. On the whole, it seemed as though the 
prospects, taking the matter of naval fighting — 
likely to be the principal kind — as a criterion, were 
dubious, and that the republic was in almost as much 
danger as when it first struggled for existence. 

Nevertheless, he set his lips, and refused, even to 
himself, to admit that his country would ever give up 
and accept defeat, and in this silent and rather grim 
mood withstood the assaults both from within and 
without. 

Some quiet weeks went by, and the Macedonian 


246 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

arrived off the coast of Portugal, and from there 
took a run to Madeira. Here a quantity of wine 
was taken on board and stored away, for the use of 
the officers and to take home. The stay was short, 
but before it was over those on the ship had an 
exciting bit of news. This was that the United 
States 32-gun frigate Essex was somewhere in these 
waters, and would shortly cruise toward the Canaries. 
At once there was a stir on board. The captain 
called Mr. Hope to him, and they both went below, 
and the other officers and the crew began to assemble 
in excited groups. It was the general belief that the 
captain would go out at once in search of the Ameri- 
can, and eager remarks and excited looks were ex- 
changed. The Essex was considerably smaller than 
the Macedonian , so that a victory over her seemed 
to be a foregone conclusion, though it was believed 
that the Yankee would put up a plucky fight. Of 
course Paul and the other Americans did not think 
it prudent to let their hopes and desires appear, but 
they would not humble themselves or play the hypo- 
crite enough to seem to agree with the others, and 
therefore took no part in the general talk. They 
also kept as much as they could by themselves. This 
behaviour, of course, attracted notice, and a few of the 
sailors broke out in surly or sneering remarks, though 
in a general way their manliness and independence 
were respected. 

About twenty minutes later Captain Carden and 
Mr. Hope came up from the cabin, and at once the 
suspense that all were beginning to feel was ended. 


MATTERS GROW EXCITING. 247 

Mr. Hope carried a speaking-trumpet under his arm, 
and it was evident that he was about to take com- 
mand of the deck. This could mean but one thins:. 
A low cheer broke from the men. The lieutenant 
frowned, — he was harsh and a severe disciplinarian, 
— but without comment he came to the confines of 
the quarter-deck, and began to give his orders. They 
were to get the anchor short and put sail on the ship. 

At once the kind of town-meeting appearance of 
things disappeared. The midshipmen ran to their 
places, the boatswain’s mates mingled with the crew 
and repeated the fast-coming orders, and the various 
divisions of the crew scattered to their stations. 
With beautiful precision one command after another 
was carried out, and in a period of time to astonish a 
landsman the ship was standing toward the open sea. 

Paul Woods was standing near the captain as the 
orders were given and executed, and he grew sad as 
he thought of the possible outcome of the enter- 
prise. The track of a ship is a narrow one, of 
course, and the general vicinity of the Canaries was 
a wide hunting-ground, and yet it was not so very 
unlikely that they might search out the Essex. If 
they did, he could not well doubt the outcome, 
though he felt sure that the sturdy little craft would 
give a good account of herself. But it was useless 
to distress himself with thoughts about this now, and, 
with the determination to banish it as much as he 
could from his mind, and to hope resolutely for the 
best, he turned to busy himself with his regular 
duties. 


248 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


The run to the tropics was uneventful, and though 
Captain Carden doubled his lookouts, and the weather 
permitted a wide sqa-range, no sign of the little frig- 
ate appeared. Finally, the reckoning showed that 
they were in latitude 29 north, and longitude 29 : 30 
west, and were therefore only a few days’ sail from 
the Canaries. Sunday had come around and brought 
with it weather that suited the day, for it was quiet 
and peaceful, and the moderate wind merely cooled 
the air and kept the ship steadily on her course. The 
men observed the usual custom, and took the few 
moments that followed the morning’s work to put on 
their best togs, and prepare for a kind of decorous 
holiday. They were soon piped down to breakfast, 
and the deck was left in charge of a lieutenant and 
the regular watch. 

Paul Woods had taken his place with the wardroom 
men, as usual, and was perhaps half-way through the 
meal when a kind of far-off noise, like a prolonged 
human cry, came down from the deck. 

He jumped to his feet, as did nearly all of the 
other men, and they stood listening. They could 
guess what the sound was, and it made their eyes 
gleam. Then, with a common impulse, they clapped 
on their hats and made for the deck. 

Just as they were at the foot of the companion, 
the captain came out of his cabin and trotted up the 
stairs. When Paul reached the deck he found the 
officer of the watch returning the hail of the lookout. 

“ Masthead, there ! ” shouted Captain Carden, has- 
tily motioning the lieutenant aside. 


MATTERS GROW EXCITING. 249 

“ Sir ? ” came down the answer. 

“ Where away is the sail ? ” 

“On the lee bow, sir.” 

“ What does she look like ? ” 

“ A square-rigged vessel, sir.” 

The captain paused and let a few moments go by. 
Then again : 

“ Masthead, there ! ” 

“ Sir ? ” 

“ What does she look like ?” 

“A large ship, sir, standing toward us.” 

There was a perceptible stir of excitement among 
the listening company. 

“ Bring me my glass,” said the captain, turning to 
one of the messengers. 

The boy darted away and soon returned with the 
telescope. The captain took it and tucked it under 
his arm, and glanced toward the northwestern sea- 
line. It would not be long now before the white 
speck would appear. By this time the deck was 
nearly covered with men, for the news had spread 
all over the ship. It was too exciting a moment to 
keep still, and they carried on snatches of murmured 
talk. The American sailors — or several of them — 
finally began to be heard, saying that they should 
protest against fighting, if this turned out to be a 
United States ship. If necessary, they would sur- 
render as prisoners of war. 

Lieutenant Hope at this point stepped toward them, 
and made a fierce sign for them to be silent. 

They looked at one another for a moment, but, 


250 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL, 


instead of obeying immediately, repeated the protest. 
The lieutenant set his heavy jaws, — he was a harsh, 
tyrannical man, — and, but for the presence of the 
captain, it would probably have gone hard with the 
little independence party, but just at that moment 
Carden himself struck in. 

“ Silence, fore and aft ! ” 

He spoke in such a tone of authority, and thrust 
such a stern, threatening look about him, that even 
the plucky Americans were daunted. When all was 
still once more he looked up at the man on the yard. 

“ What does she look like now ? ” 

“ A large frigate bearing down upon us, sir.” 

Captain Carden turned abruptly about and crossed 
over to the mizzen rigging. Up this, with his spy- 
glass slung across his shoulder, he climbed. When 
he was high enough for a good range, he unslung the 
glass and brought it to bear. After a number of 
minutes, during which there continued to be stillness 
below, he shut up the instrument and descended. 

“ Mr. Hope,” he said, with a little jar of excitement 
in his voice, “you may clear the ship for action.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


READY TO TRY CONCLUSIONS. 

I N a twinkling the uncommon silence on the deck 
was broken. Officers and men darted off and 
made ready to take their stations, and the drummers 
and fifers hurried away to get their instruments. At 
the same time the boatswain’s mates took up the 
captain’s order, and bellowed : 

“ All hands clear ship for action — a-ho-oy ! ” 

In a few moments the drums and fifes were beating 
to quarters, hammers were knocking away bulkheads, 
and guns were rumbling and crackling on the planks 
as they were cast off and run back. 

The fierce David Hope was now in his element. 
It was his business to see that all the preparations 
went on as they should, and he sprang about joyously 
to fulfil the duty. 

“ More pistols and cutlasses for the foremost rank ! ” 
he presently roared. “ Mr. Gibb, make sure that the 
screen at the magazine is well drenched. Ahoy, 
there ! — move that tub out of the road ! Sprinkle a 
little of the sand between those for’ard guns ! Lively 
there with your grape and canister ! Things must 
move together. Bos’n, see that your trimmers are 
all standing by.” 

251 


252 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


These and other orders kept the deck in a wild 
stir, but all the time bringing the work to be done to 
swift completion. 

In a few minutes The last of the important prepara- 
tions was completed. Every man was at his station, 
a special detail of marines and sailors had gone aloft, 
and all the guns were loaded and run out ready for 
use. The men — excepting only the unfortunate 
Americans — were in the best of spirits, and laughed 
and joked as the grog was brought around. One 
man, Holmes, the boatswain, was sick in his bunk, 
but when quarters were called he crawled out and 
took his station on the forecastle. But here there 
was a brief interruption. The eight musicians, con- 
stituting the ship’s band, appeared before the captain 
and asked to be provided with safe quarters. They 
were not regular members of the ship’s company, 
they said, and were not called upon by their contract 
to expose themselves to unusual danger. 

“Very well,” answered the captain, indifferently. 
“ Stow yourselves away in the cable tier, then.” 

Accordingly, to the cable tier they went. 

As soon as they had gone the deck quieted down, 
and rapidly became as still as it had been at first. 

“ Mr. Bulford,” after a moment of this silence 
spoke up Lieutenant Hope, “you may take the bos’n 
and put on and lock the gratings of all but the main 
and after hatch. See that the usual guard is stationed 
at those hatches. You midshipmen at the gun divi- 
sions, remember your orders. Have your pistols 
ready, and if a man flinches from his gun, shoot him 


READY TO TRY CONCLUSIONS. 253 

down. Mr. Officer of Marines, you will assist the 
midshipmen. Your command will hold their muskets 
at charge-arms, and be ready to shoot all delinquents. 
Now you men of the crew, remember your drill, 
and have your ears open for commands.” 

As the lieutenant closed, Captain Carden himself 
walked down from the quarter-deck. 

“ Men,” he said, in a loud voice, as he passed 
slowly along between the waiting lines, “ you know 
what is expected of you. That vessel may be smaller 
than this, but her men have the reputation of fighting 
well, and you will have to look closely to your work 
in order to win. That you will win, of course, I have 
no doubt. I ask you to remember that our motto on 
this occasion is that of our glorious Nelson, — ‘ Eng- 
land expects every man to do his duty.’ ” 

The men broke into a wild cheer, as he finished. 

“ Run up the colours ! ” he shouted, turning and 
waving his hand. The wad of bunting travelled 
rapidly aloft, and, as it stopped, broke out into the 
famous blood-red flag. 

The captain then walked slowly and dignifiedly 
back to his own part of the ship. 

By this time the distant sail had crawled up enough 
to be plainly visible from the deck. In a short time, 
she could be made out to be a frigate, piled high with 
canvas. As yet, her exact size could not be deter- 
mined. 

“ We will make certain that there is no mistake, 
and show the private signal of the day and my num- 
ber,” said the captain to Mr. Hope. 


254 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“Very well, sir,” was the answer. 

Three signals were shown, accordingly. The 
stranger paid no attention to them. 

“That settles it,” said the captain, lowering his 
glass. 

“ Settles it to my satisfaction, sir,” said Mr. Hope, 
with one of his sombre nods. “ She’ll soon be ours.” 

“ I trust she will,” answered the captain, in a con- 
fident tone. “You think she is the Esse; r, don’t 
you ? ” 

“ I suppose she must be, sir,” rather hesitatingly re- 
turned the lieutenant. “ Still, she looks larger than I 
supposed the Essex was. Well, it’s all the same,, 
for it’s pretty sure she’s a Yankee.” 

There was, however, still a small chance of a mis- 
take, and Captain Carden operated his signals for 
some minutes longer. The strange frigate continued 
to ignore them. 

“ We won’t hesitate any longer,” he broke out, 
impatiently. “ Quartermaster, cease signalling. Now, 
lieutenant, get ready to try your long guns.” 

Rapidly the menacing frigate drew near, and, as she 
did so, a little of her canvas was taken in. 

“Oh, she means fight,” said the captain, with a 
half-admiring look. “ Plucky, too, for a craft of her 
inferior metal.” 

“ But if she’s the Essex , sir, she’s got only a few 
long guns, and so, to do anything, she must come 
close. Isn’t that it ? ” This, after a long look, was 
the lieutenant’s reply. 

“ I suppose that may explain it,” admitted the 


READY TO TRY CONCLUSIONS. 255 

captain. “ Well, we’ll keep off for a few minutes, 
and fight at long range. When she comes on the 
next tack, luff a trifle.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

The Macedonian had the wind in her favour, — 
that is, she held the weather-gage, — and she was 
a fast sailer. As the stranger came a little nearer, 
Mr. Hope brought the frigate’s bows partly around, 
and offset the advance which the other ship had made. 

“ By Jove, they are sailors on that craft ! ” exclaimed 
Mr. Bulford, breaking out in this way as the stranger 
suddenly, and with beautiful precision, went on the 
other tack. 

“ Well, some Americans do have a little idea of 
ships,” answered Paul, with a smile. He was stand- 
ing at the moment near the lieutenant. 

“ She’ll probably try a while longer for the weather- 
gage,” resumed Mr. Bulford. “ We can’t afford to 
let her have it, though, for we should lose the advan- 
tage of our longer-range guns. She will have to fight 
us on our otvn terms.” 

So it seemed to prove. Though the stranger was 
fast, the Macedonian was near enough her match to 
hold the weather-gage, and the other captain finally 
abandoned his original manoeuvres and tried another 
plan. He had been tacking, luffing, taking in sail 
and putting it out, all with astonishing rapidity and 
machine-like precision, but now he put down his helm 
and came with a sharp luff at his antagonist. 

“ Hold her as she is, and let him get within range,” 
said Captain Carden to Mr. Hope. 


256 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

His face had begun to flush, and his fighting spirit 
was evidently rising. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” said Mr. Hope, with a brightening 
gleam of the eyes. 

Steadily, and with a white line of foam curling up 
at her dipping weather bow, the unknown craft came 
on. She was now nearer than she had been before, 
and but for her position, all of one tier of her guns 
could have been counted. Up to this time, she had 
been either too far away, or else had shown, as she did 
still, too little of her side. 

But just here something new and important hap- 
pened. The stranger’s shortened side all at once 
lengthened, the slant of her sails broadened, and she 
caught the wind barely forward of the beam. As this 
happened, four little bundles, showing, except through 
the glasses, as mere specks, began to mount aloft, 
and in a moment they were at the three mastheads 
and the gaff. For a few seconds they remained in 
this form, and then swiftly expanded and blossomed 
into four flags. The glasses were instantly at work, 
and the question, if there had been any, was settled. 
The flags were a firmament for stars, and all but one 
— a blue, white-spangled Jack — were divided length- 
wise by brilliant stripes ! 

Paul Woods was watching the little bundles break 
out, and as the last one unfolded a lump rose in his 
throat. The old flag had never meant so much to 
him before. 

“God bless it, and keep it flying ! ” he silently half 
exclaimed, half prayed. 


READY TO TRY CONCLUSIONS. 


257 


There was a little stir among the watching com- 
pany below, and five or six men stepped out into the 
deck. Without hesitation, and with a sturdy, frank- 
faced sailor at the head, they moved deliberately aft 
and stopped at last on the quarter-deck. No one 
attempted to stop them, and they came on as though 
they had the right. Captain Carden frowned omi- 
nously, but they pulled up squarely before him. 

“ If you please, sir, we want to put in a bit of peti- 
tion,” said the sturdy sailor, respectfully. 

“ This is a strange time for it,” in an angry rumble, 
answered the captain. “Be quick about it. What 
do you want ? ” 

“ Perhaps you may have guessed, sir,” said the 
spokesman, unsbakenly. “We are all Americans, 
and we wish to protest against serving on this ship 
in the present fight. We ought not to be made to 
take part against our own people.” 

The captain’s hard-set face grew harder still. 

“You may go back, and I will not punish you,” 
he said, in a menacing voice. “ Only do not come 
here like this again.” 

The man looked disconcerted for a moment. He 
did not quail, but a glance at his mates seemed to 
decide him. Without a word he led this little com- 
pany back whence they came. 

“ That fellow — John Card, 1 believe his name is — 
will dangle some day at a yard-arm,” said the captain, 
with surly emphasis. “ See that he doesn’t shirk, 
Mr. Hope, and pistol him if he makes the least 
trouble ! ” 


258 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ I will, sir,” said the lieutenant, with a lowering 
smile. 

“ It is about time to try a few guns.” The captain 
thereupon seemed to dismiss the matter, and re- 
marked, “ I am not sure but we are already within 
range.” 

“We could try, sir,” answered Mr. Hope, after an 
estimating glance. 

“ Then tell Mr. Bulford to make ready three of his 
eighteens.” 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

The lieutenant gave the order to one of the mid- 
shipmen, who passed it along. 

The on-coming frigate was by this time looming 
up, black and near. Even without a glass the 
moving figures of men could be made out, and a 
long double tier of guns showed their black spots 
along her side. 

“ I don’t know about that ship being the Essex,” 
said Mr. Hope, in a low tone to the captain. “ Though 
I can’t get her exactly, she looks like a thirty-eight- 
gun ship.” 

“ So I think,” answered the captain, in the same 
tone. 

“ Then if she is, there’ll be more work, but all the 
more glory for us,” returned the lieutenant, with a 
lighting of his fierce eyes. “ In an hour from now 
we’ll have a prize-crew aboard of her.” 

“ I agree with you,” said the captain, though in 
a slightly graver tone. “Well, you may try the 
eighteens.” 


READY TO TRY CONCLUSIONS. 259 

“Ay, ay, sir,” said the lieutenant, returning to the 
regulation phrase. 

Paul Woods was standing where he could hear 
this talk, and it gave him a little joyful start. It 
was possible, then, that some frigate as powerful as 
the Macedonian was coming up, and the battle was 
not to be one-sided. For that matter, he had already 
noticed how big the strange ship looked, but he had 
taken for granted that she was only so in appearance, 
knowing that at sea (where there are no objects for 
comparison) such things are hard to judge, and had 
finally concluded that it must be the Essex. Besides, 
he had not yet — since the stranger was near at 
hand — got a complete look at her, and so could 
not be sure about her guns. The Essex , it was 
understood, carried but thirty-two. He was there- 
fore suddenly stirred with a new excitement, and 
watched the coming frigate in almost breathless 
anxiety. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 


APTAIN CARDEN’S order was passed along, 



' and reached the forward main-deck battery. The 
ship was at the moment sailing with the wind a little 
abaft the beam, and the port batteries were toward 
the enemy. There was a tremendous din and a 
sudden jar of the ship, and a cloud of smoke rose 
from the port bow and blew off down the wind. 

Paul had stepped a little forward and to the rail, 
and eagerly followed the tracks of the balls. They 
were marked by flashes of white for a short space, 
and were then lost. 

“ Cease firing,” called out Captain Carden, sharply. 
“ You are only throwing away shot.” 

“The fate of your friends is postponed for a 
while,” said a good-humoured, yet bantering voice, 
at Paul’s back. 

He looked around and saw the purser. 

“ We shall see,” was the answer, with a look of 
equal good-humour, but with a flash of the eyes. 
“ If that is a thirty-eight-gun frigate, as I think 
she is — ” 

“Prepare to wear ship ! ” broke in the voice of the 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 26 1 

captain, drowning all other sounds. “ Ready to serve 
the starboard guns.” 

There was a rush of the gun-crews to the opposite 
batteries, and the line of marines walked across. 

The actual fight was now about to begin, and all 
idle talk abruptly ceased. 

The on-coming frigate crept yet a little nearer, 
and then a greater stretch of her side began to show. 
Paul was still looking intently at her when a tongue 
of flame shot from her black bow, and a jet of white 
smoke made a long column to leeward. An instant 
later a kind of tearing noise, like the rending of a 
sail, sounded overhead. 

Paul drew a quickened breath, and smiled. He 
knew that it was the wind of a large shot. This was 
at least a good beginning. 

The order to change the gun-crew had been fol- 
lowed by that to wear ship, and the Macedonian was 
now sailing on the same tack as her antagonist. No 
more guns were fired by either side for a few minutes, 
but then, all at once, the other frigate cut loose, and 
let go w r ith nearly every available piece. 

The white powder-cloud instantly blotted her out 
to her topsails, and as she thus all but vanished, a 
noise like the blows of a score or two of giant ham- 
mers sounded against the Macedonian' s side. 

“ Hit a little low ! ” said Paul, coolly, to himself. 
“ They’ll mend that, in a minute.” 

He glanced around, to make sure that no important 
damage had already been done, but looked suddenly 
grave as he got the range of the deck. 


2 62 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


The sergeant of marines was lying on his face near 
the ’midships starboard bulwark. Just above him a 
white splinter showed where the ball had broken 
through. 

He had scarcely time to say “ Poor fellow ! ” — 
for he liked the sergeant, — when there was a pro- 
longed crashing overhead, and, looking up, he saw the 
mizzentopmast swinging back and forth, and seem- 
ingly just ready to fall. 

There was a stir about him, as all on the quarter- 
deck made ready to get out of the way, but just then 
the spar fell. It took a kind of lurch aft, as it went, 
and suddenly brought up in the maintop. There it 
lay suspended, its length stretching between the 
two tops, and dangling over the heads of those 
below. 

Some of the men started back, and nearly all of 
the others looked apprehensively up. In a twinkling 
the officers were flourishing their drawn swords and 
pointing their pistols. 

“To your stations! Back, every man!” they 
shouted. “ Stand by to serve your guns ! ” 

The panic was but for a moment, and the men 
jumped again to their places. 

“ That’s more like it ! ” growled one powerful 
sailor. He himself had not budged. “We ain’t 
here for a baby show.” 

“ Good for you, Saddler ! ” called out the second 
lieutenant, approvingly. He was passing along the 
line at the moment. “ Now, then, no more shirking ! ” 

“ Ready the starboard batteries. F'ire by divi- 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 263 

sions ! ” came the order from the quarter-deck, at 
this juncture. 

The men impulsively broke forth in a cheer, and 
there was a stir to carry out the order. 

“ They are warming up to it, at last,” thought Paul, 
with a glance down the line. “ The work will be hot 
from now on.” 

So, indeed, it proved. Several of the men had 
not before thrown off their jackets, but as they ended 
their cheer they almost tore them off, and some who 
had been in shirt-sleeves before now stripped to the 
bare skin. The guns were instantly thundering, and 
the ship jarred through all her timbers. Billows of 
smoke quickly hid all but the topmasts of the other 
frigate. 

“This is getting a bit too hot for me,” said the 
little bustling purser, stepping back from where he 
had stood at Paul’s elbow. “ I believe I’ll go to my 
regular station. Won’t you come along ? ” 

“ No, I will stay awhile,” said Paul, coolly. 

“Well, I don’t think enough of your company, 
good as it is, to stay,” said the little man, turning to 
go. “ However,” he added, speaking again in his 
former bantering fashion, “ I’ll be back in time to 
help you enjoy our friend’s surrender.” 

He hurried away as he spoke, and dropped down 
the companion. 

The fight now rapidly quickened, and grew into 
the full proportions of a battle. The ships came 
gradually nearer together, and the rain of shot grew 
more and more deadly. This was at least true of 


264 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

the Macedonian , for her decks began to show blood 
and wreckage, though on the other ship little could 
be told of what had been done. It was certain that 
she had suffered little in her spars, for glimpses of 
her topmasts could be seen above the smoke, and 
she still went through the few manoeuvres called for 
with speed and precision. Beyond this she was a 
mere mystery of fire-lighted smoke and bare upper 
spars, now and then brought down to the snowy 
gleam of a sail. 

Paul Woods was by this time considering whether 
he had better remain longer on deck. He had never 
been under such a fire before, and as he was a mere 
spectator he had the better chance to get the full 
sense of what was going on. He was excited and 
eager, but still not roused to fighting pitch. 

“ But yet I can’t bear to go below,” he said to 
himself. “ I must know what is happening. Of 
course it is a big risk, but I’ll run it.” 

It was now about three bells, or half-past nine, and 
the entire time of fighting had been rather under half 
an hour. Paul looked along the deck, and it came to 
him what gunners his countrymen were. For several 
of the huge spars had been shot away, the mizzen- 
mast was nearly cut through, as many as six or seven 
guns were up-ended or completely dismounted, and 
the sanded planks were splashed with great patches 
of blood. The dead had been unceremoniously 
tossed overboard, and as for the seriously wounded, 
they had been carried below ; but for the length of 
the half smoke-hidden line there showed bandaged 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 265 

hands and arms, and sunburned skins were brightened 
with spots of red. 

But still the determined Carden was apparently 
hopeful. He steadfastly gave his orders, and his 
officers unshakenly enforced them. The men, too, 
occasionally broke out with cheers. It was a good 
display of courage, whatever the end might be. 

At last the gunners on the other ship seemed to 
get just the range for deck-fire, and for the next few 
minutes the scene, as Paul looked down upon it, was 
horrible. He turned his head away a part of the 
time, but occasionally his overpowering desire to 
know how matters were going drew his eyes back. 
There were now occasional deaths immediately about 
him. Two messenger boys were struck down, one 
previously burned by the explosion of a cartridge 
that he was carrying, and two sailors at the nearest 
gun staggered and fell in a bloody heap. Before that, 
one of the midshipmen and two seamen had been 
wounded. 

But at last something happened that gave the 
suffering company momentary encouragement. The 
other frigate jetted out so with flames and seemed so 
buried in smoke that it was believed she was on fire. 
The news was passed along, and the poor fellows wildly 
cheered. But Paul, who had by this time got a good 
idea of the stranger’s work, — having more leisure than 
any one else, — was not so deceived. He guessed 
rightly that the storm would still go on, and it did. 
This same mistake, however, strange as it may seem, 
was made several times more. 


266 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


But at last even the iron Carden saw that some- 
thing must be done. Nothing that was of flesh and 
blood could much longer stand such a rain of death. 

“Mr. Hope,” he called out to the lieutenant,— 
he had to raise his voice to be heard, though the 
officer was but a few feet away, — “traverse some 
of those guns over to this side and aim at that fel- 
ler’s spars. We must try to cripple him, and then 
we’ll run in and rake.” 

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the lieutenant, with his 
usual cool promptness. 

He roared out the necessary orders, and stepped to 
the break of the quarter-deck to see them executed. 

All at once he clapped his hand to his head and 
staggered back. A shot had struck the rail, just 
below, and some small splinters and other fragments 
of the hammock nettings had flown that way. 

A midshipman and one of the gunners rushed to 
his side. 

“ No, only a little thump on the head,” he col- 
lected himself, and burst out. “I am all right.” 

But as he spoke the blood began to run down both 
cheeks. 

“ The old Harry ! Well, I suppose I’ll have to go 
below, but I’ll soon be back,” he said, reluctantly. 

He staggered off and descended the main hatch. 

“ If those guns do anything we’ll even up this,” 
muttered the captain. “ Once get a raking position, 
and I’ll fix her.” 

But whatever might happen then, for the present 
the ship was in a bad way. About the time the 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 2 67 

lieutenant left the deck, the boatswain and the 
steward were killed and the schoolmaster mortally 
wounded. Soon afterward another gun was dis- 
mounted, and two of the men who were serving it 
killed. One of them, as Paul sorrowfully noted, was 
poor. Jack Card. His did, indeed, seem to be a 
hard fate. 

A few minutes later a shot struck the rim of a port 
and glanced in among a group of four or five men, 
leaving two dead and one wounded. 

“ At this rate there’ll be nothing left alive to get 
to close quarters,” thought Paul. 

Still the fatal work went on. Men continued to 
fall, though now the others did not seem to heed it, 
and occasionally there went up a wild cheer. Seem- 
ingly the crew were almost beside themselves, as 
though in a sense drunk with the sight of the 
slaughter. 

It was at this time that Paul saw some of the 
most terrible, as well as the most revolting, events of 
the fight. He saw a number of desperately wounded, 
but in some cases conscious men, caught up and flung 
overboard. The sailors who did it seemed to act of 
their own motion, but the officers looked on and, with- 
out protest, allowed it to be done. A few moments 
afterward, Nankivee, a quartermaster’s mate, and a 
popular man with the crew, was struck near the 
heart by a grape-shot, and rolled over on the deck. 
He was carried below, crying out, “ Oh, my God ! ” 
and began to go into the death agony. 

Poor Nankivee was scarcely out of sight when 


268 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


two men came up from below, and threw overboard 
a couple of armfuls of amputated arms and legs. 
Finally, as though to add an element of the gro- 
tesque to the other horrors, the ship’s goat got loose, 
and as it stepped out into the deck suddenly ducked 
and turned half a somersault, her hind parts gush- 
ing out with blood. Like the human creatures 
that were as desperately hurt, she was promptly 
seized and flung overboard. 

By this time the two guns that had been traversed 
across were put in action, but were almost immediately 
dismounted. 

The situation was now manifestly growing . des- 
perate, and for the first time Captain Carden’s cool 
and unshaken expression changed. A little colour 
left his face, and he stood still for a moment with 
his hand on his sword-hilt. At that moment Paul 
almost pitied him. After an instant he seemed to 
pull himself together, and began again to give his 
orders. 

The men went on toiling at the remaining guns, 
and still worked like beavers, but apparently accom- 
plished little. The other frigate had some time 
before lost her maintopgallantmast, and some of 
her unimportant rigging seemed to be cut, but other- 
wise she appeared to have sustained little damage. 
A rift in the smoke occasionally gave a glimpse of 
her, and then she was seen to be keeping swiftly at 
her work, her officers and gun-crews attending coolly 
to their duties. 

Captain Carden now conferred briefly with some of 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 269 

his officers and prepared to try another plan. It was 
clear that his antagonist was not the Essex , and 
that she had as many heavy guns as he, and that 
her men were distinctly better gunners. The only 
course left, therefore, was to close. By this time 
Lieutenant Hope had reappeared, and had again 
taken his station. 

“ Mr. Hope,” said Carden, turning now to him, 
“ we must drop down on that fellow. Get everything 
ready for boarding.” 

“ All hands stand by to board ! ” instantly shouted 
Mr. Hope, in thunder-like tones. “ Pass the word 
below ! ” 

In a few moments the diminished company seemed 
again almost full. The plucky, half-naked fellows 
came rushing eagerly up the hatches. 

“ Conquer or die ! ” some of them shouted, and a 
lusty cheer went up. 

“That is what we mean,” muttered the captain, 
his face brightening with a desperate smile. “ We 
will have a prize-crew on that fellow yet ! ” 

The men caught the look and once more cheered, 
and the captain nodded satisfiedly at them. 

But alas ! it is sometimes impossible to carry out 
these lofty and heroic resolves. 

The men were hardly done cheering when the ship 
gave a new, bounding motion, and slowly began to 
swing into the wind. 

It needed but a glance to show that the fore- 
brace had been shot through, allowing the yard to 
swing. 


270 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“Now we are in for it,” cried the captain, with a 
ghastly look ; “ they will rake ! ” 

He was right. The frigate drove ahead, got fairly 
off the Macedonian s bows and broke out in a broad- 
side. 

It was the worst that the unfortunate craft had 
received yet. Men went down all about the deck, 
and the stump of the mizzenmast fell with a crash. 
It lodged, with all its raffle, over the starboard 
quarter, covering up and practically disabling the 
guns there. But this was not the whole, for, as the 
Macedonian was now slow and almost unmanageable, 
the frigate hung about her bows, and kept up a perfect 
storm of round shot, grape and canister. 

It was now nearly eleven o’clock, and the Mace - 
donian was little better than a wreck. Besides the 
mizzenmast and all of its spars, she had lost her fore 
and main topmasts, the main-yard was in the slings, 
and the lower masts were battered and weakened. 
In addition to all this, much of the general rigging 
was cut, and the foresail was left a mere rag upon 
the yard. As to the guns, a number were dismounted, 
especially on the quarter-deck and forecastle. There 
was only one boat — the jolly-boat, which was towing 
astern — left. All the others were in splinters. 

Captain Carden still kept his place, but he seemed 
to have grown old in the last ten minutes. In a kind 
of despairing, mechanical way, the men at the remain- 
ing guns continued to load and fire them. 

“ I’d be ready to die if I could but just lead a party 
of boarders over that craft’s bulwarks ! ” savagely 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 2/1 

growled Lieutenant Hope. “ I’d show them what 
there was left in us ! ” 

“ It is too late to think of that,” said the captain, 
despondently. “ She will not give us such a chance. 
I can see but one thing possible.” 

“ I suppose so, and still — Why, what does that 
mean, sir ? ” 

He pointed with surprise at the frigate. Her gun- 
fire had abruptly stopped and she seemed to have 
checked her way, and remained lying like a log in 
the midst of a slowly vanishing cloud of smoke. 

“ Perhaps something has happened to her,” wonder- 
ingly answered the captain. “ She may be on fire, 
or have some bad holes below her water-line.” 

And as though to bear out this idea, the frigate 
just then broke clear of the smoke, and her stern was 
beginning to show and her yards were going around. 

“ She is really squaring away,” went on the captain. 
“Possibly — hand me my glass — possibly another 
sail is in sight. There may be a ship of ours coming.” 

He took the glass and eagerly began to work it 
along the weather horizon. 

At this point the men comprehended what had 
happened, and raised one of their irrepressible cheers. 
Without waiting for the order, they knocked off firing. 

Meanwhile, the Americans, including Paul Woods, 
stood like men stupefied. What in the name of a 
cruel fate could it mean ? Was it true that another 
sail had hove in sight, and if so, that the American 
captain did not dare even to wait till he could make 
it out ? Or was it possible that something of a dis- 


272 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


abling nature had happened ? Nothing certainly 
showed it, for, except the missing mizzentopgallant- 
mast, and a little injury to a few small spars, the 
frigate was apparently unhurt. That is, she was 
unhurt unless some important part of the rigging 
was injured. 

As he still stood looking dejectedly at the tantalis- 
ing sight, some of the non-combatants, including a few 
of the musicians and the purser, came on deck. They 
were for a moment brought to a standstill by the 
sights around, but then collected themselves and 
joined in the general rejoicing. 

“Well, you see that I was at least half right,” said 
the purser, coming along after a time to Paul. “ Your 
friends have a bellyful.” 

“ Yes, it looks that way, and I don’t blame you 
for crowing,” said Paul, with a long breath. “ Only 
I don’t understand it.” 

“British pluck and * sticktoitiveness,’ ” said the 
purser, with a laugh. “We’ve suffered some, but 
we’ve come out on top. So it’s always likely 
to be.” 

“ I am inclined to think that you and the captain 
of that ship are off the same piece.” said Paul, sar- 
castically. “You both take precious good care of 
your skins.” 

“ Now you are just right,” said the purser, imper- 
turbably. “We both look after Number One. Only 
I think you will acknowledge that the circumstances 
are a little different. His business is fighting and 
mine isn’t. But come ; you and I mustn’t spat — 


THE OPENING OF THE BATTLE. 273 

not in real earnest. You are certainly a plucky fellow, 
whatever any other Yankee may be.” 

It was silly to carry vexation any further, and Paul 
unbent his brows and smiled. 

Meanwhile Captain Carden had finished his look 
around the sea-line, and reported that he could raise 
no sail. 

“ Something was the matter with that fellow, and 
perhaps he was also a little weak in the knees,” he 
said. “ Well, Mr. Hope, we must make a beginning 
at getting things to rights. First, we will cut away 
the. raffle of this mast.” 

Paul was still about heartbroken, and he would 
not have the officers or crew longer before his eyes, 
and walked gloomily aft. He stopped at the taff- 
rail and stared with angry and puzzled eyes at the 
receding ship. The wind was moderate, but she had 
not spread all of her canvas, and was still no great 
way off. 

“ I never knew anything so strange in my life,” he 
said to himself. “ Certainly she had the victory as 
good as won. There is no sail in sight to scare her, 
and — No, I don’t understand it.” 

He drew a long breath, and beat his hand in angry 
protest on the rail. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


WHAT THE OTHER FRIGATE DID. 

B UT Captain Carden, whatever his apparent relief 
and satisfaction, showed that he still had trouble- 
some doubts. He looked at the retreating ship long 
and carefully, and gave no further orders about clear- 
ing up his own decks. In this way, perhaps fifteen 
or twenty minutes passed. During the time several 
more of the wounded had been carried below, and 
the remaining dead had been thrown overboard. The 
decks were still a grime of blood and sand and spilled 
powder, and the fallen spars and their hamper and 
the upset, guns completed the wrecked look of what 
had been an orderly ship. 

Finally the captain put down his glass, and signed 
to Lieutenant Hope. As the lieutenant came up he 
gave a low-toned order. 

It soon appeared that it related to an inspection of 
the lower parts of the ship, and in a few minutes the 
lieutenant was back with his report. 

More than a hundred cannon-shot had penetrated 
the hull, Hope said, and several were about at the 
water-line. He had set the carpenter and some of 
the hands at work to make temporary repairs, and 
believed that the ship was in no danger of sinking. 

274 


WHAT THE OTHER FRIGATE DID. 275 

“Very well,” responded Carden. “Now we must 
go to work on this raffle and get the decks clear. 
Carry the rest of the wounded below, and get those 
spars out of the way. Secure and lash in all the 
guns that cannot be remounted.” 

“I will, sir. Do you think — ” the lieutenant 
hesitated, and in a low tone concluded — “ do you 
think that fellow will be back ? ” 

The captain’s brows contracted. “ I don’t know. 
Anyway, say nothing to the men, and go ahead with 
the work.” 

The lieutenant seemed to understand all that was 
implied in the words, and with a new pucker between 
his heavy brows turned away. 

Of course Paul Woods felt a new thrill of hope. 
The captain had begun to think, then, that the 
frigate might return. She perhaps had hauled off 
for a temporary purpose, as he himself had once 
guessed. He took a turn across the deck, in his 
excitement, and then went back to his watching- 
place. 

But the uncertainty was not to last much longer. 
As the many anxious eyes watched the retreating 
frigate, she suddenly began to come into the wind ; 
her yards swung, her sails came aslant, and her gun- 
tiered side lifted and dipped gracefully around. 

“That tells the story!” muttered an officer near 
Paul. “ We may as well pack our kits.” 

“Confound her! If we could only have laid her 
aboard ! ” growled the second lieutenant. “ We are 
in for it.” 


2?6 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

Other murmurs of the same tenor ran around. 
Captain Carden put his glass again to his eye and 
looked long at the frigate, but did not utter a 
word. 

It could now be made out with the naked eye what 
the American was about. As soon as she was hove 
to men began to swarm aloft and fall to at repairing 
her injuries. These, it now seemed, were slightly 
greater than those on the Macedonian had supposed. 
A couple of wounded spars were cut down, some cut 
and flying rigging secured, and several minor ropes 
were spliced. Then, as all on the Macedonian s 
deck looked breathlessly at her, the white sails 
grew broader, and her bows began to drop once 
more from the wind. 

“ She is coming,” said a midshipman behind Paul. 
“ Are we to do anything ? ” 

“ Silence ! ” commanded Captain Carden, fiercely. 
“ I am still in command of this ship ! Go and tell 
Mr. Hope and Mr. Bulford to come instantly aft.” 

The middy changed colour, but collected himself 
and darted away. 

Mr. Hope and Mr. Bulford, the latter slightly 
wounded, were soon with the group. 

“ Now, gentlemen,” said the captain, turning as he 
spoke, so as to include also the other officers, “ I 
wish to obtain your opinions. You see how it is 
with us, and you know the decision that must be 
made. Shall we strike ? ” 

There was a momentary pause, and the younger 
officers looked inquiringly at one another. The 


WHAT THE OTHER FRIGATE DID. 277 

same dubious expression seemed to be on the faces 
of all. 

“ Well, what say you ? ” said the captain, im- 
patiently. “ If we are to try to fight there is no 
time to lose.” 

“ I think,” said Mr. Hope, raising his eyes from a 
glum stare at the deck, “that we should stand to it. 
Better to sink alongside that fellow than to lower 
the colours!” 

Captain Carden turned a momentary look up at the 
flag. 

“ Well ? ” he said to the second lieutenant. 

“I don’t see how we can help striking, sir,” re- 
sponded the officer, with a sigh. 

“ What do you think, Mr. Bulford ? ” 

The lieutenant opened and shut his hands ner- 
vously, and looked from the coming frigate around 
upon the water. 

“ I don’t see how we can go on,” he said, at last, in 
an unsteady voice. 

The captain’s face had become impassive, and he 
was speaking and acting with a mechanical steadiness. 

“ Well, what say the rest of you ? ” he asked, 
turning to the gloomy - looking men left in the 
group. 

“ We shall have to strike,” said one, briefly. 

The others nodded or murmured assent. 

“Very well, then,” said the captain, with a decisive 
nod ; “ we will consider the matter settled. I wish 
to say, however, that I would continue if I thought 
there was the ghost of a chance.” 


278 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

He broke up the little council with the words, and 
walked slowly to the rail. 

The other frigate had in the meantime come 
almost close in, and soon let her head off a little 
and began to cross the Macedonian s stern. There 
was clearly no time to lose, for now she was ready 
to rake. 

The captain spoke to the nearest sailor, — there 
was no thought of quarter-deck niceties at such a 
moment, — and told him to lower the colours. The 
man — his name was Watson — ran to the halyards, 
and in a moment the red banner had collapsed and 
was sinking like a dying bird to the deck. 

Then from the other ship rose a distinct noise of 
cheering, and a show of figures instantly appeared 
above the hammock nettings. 

Paul Woods had to swallow two or three big lumps, 
and in spite of his self-command his eyes dimmed 
with tears. This was the end of the brags and 
sneers he had endured so long, and the day he had 
looked forward to, but had scarcely expected to see, 
had come. He still felt kindly toward many of his 
shipmates, and he was sorry for their pain and morti- 
fication, but he could not forget that many of them 
had not been altogether generous with him. 

He was trying to pull himself together, and had 
cleared his eyes of the tears, when some one touched 
his arm. He turned, and met the troubled face of 
Lieutenant Bulford. 

“ Well, Woods,’ ’ began the lieutenant, before Paul 
could speak, “the unexpected has happened, and your 


WHAT THE OTHER FRIGATE DID. 2?9 

Yankee ship has won. I am glad for you, though, of 
course, I keep plenty of pity for myself.” 

“ Oh, lieutenant ! ” exclaimed Paul, in an instant 
forgetting his exultation and remembering only their 
kindly friendship, “ I am tremendously sorry. I 
mean I wish you were somewhere else. But you 
know I will do everything I can for you. How is 
your wound ? ” 

“ It doesn’t amount to much,” said the lieutenant, 
with a plucky smile. “ The real wound is in my heart. 
That is, you know, I am hurt in my pride. Who’d 
have thought that raw seamen and inexperienced 
gunners would have fought like that ? Look at her, 
Woods, and see if you can tell me what ship 
she is.” 

In the confusion and excitement Paul had not 
improved the opportunity to have a fair look at the 
frigate. She lay now almost broadside on, though 
she was beginning to come into the wind, and all that 
was not plain about her before, and especially her 
equipment and guns, was revealed. 

Paul’s practised eye quickly took in the peculiarities 
of the hull and rig, and the number and probable 
weight of the guns. She was merely a longish 
frigate, — evidently somewhat longer, at least, than 
the Macedonian , — and was rather more heavily 
gunned. Estimating in the usual way, she would 
have a total of fifty-four pieces. This was five more 
than the Macedonian carried, both ships, as was 
customary, mounting an excess above the rating. 
Of course, the calibre of the pieces could not so well 


280 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


be determined, but yet Paul thought that the weight 
of metal, also, was on the side of the other craft. 
This afterward proved to be the fact. 1 

As for any “ear-marks” about her that were 
familiar, Paul found none. He believed that he had 
never seen her before. Her name was very likely 
painted on her stern, but that was not just now in 
sight. When it had been visible it was too far away 
for the power of the naked eye, and Paul had not had 
an opportunity to get hold of a glass. If the captain, 
or the others equipped with telescopes, had learned 
the name, they had not disclosed it. Certainly Lieu- 
tenant Bulford — though, to be sure, he had been in 
another part of the ship, and very busy — did not 
know it. 

“I don’t recognise her,” said Paul, after this long 
look. “ It’s sure, though, she isn’t the Essex. She 
mounts about fifty-four guns.” 

“ Oh, I could have told it wasn’t the Essex!” an- 
swered the lieutenant, quickly, and with a little 
asperity. “If she had been a ship of that size — 
but no use talking about that. I didn’t mean to fly 
up. This craft has licked us fairly, and has ham- 
mered us out of proportion to her advantage in size. 
Except the loss of her mizzentopgallantmast she seems 
to be almost unhurt.” 

“ Americans have a better chance to become good 
shots than Englishmen,” answered Paul, generously. 

1 The United States threw as shot-weight 787 pounds, and the 
Macedonian 555, but the English was nearer full weight than the 
American. — The Author. 


WHAT THE OTHER FRIGATE DID. 


281 


“ Many of our boys grow up with guns in their hands. 
But, hello ! There comes her boat.” 

The captain of the victorious ship had seemed in 
no hurry to take possession of his prize, but as Paul 
spoke, a small boat went dangling down to the water 
and was quickly filled with men. 

The distance was not great, and in a few moments 
the little craft was under the Macedonian s quarter. 
An officer in her stern-sheets then rose and hailed 
the ship. 

“ Hello ! We understand that you have struck ? ” 

“We have,” answered Captain Carden, standing at 
the rail. 

“ Then we will board you.” 

He made a sign to his men, and the boat came 
alongside. There was no ceremony for this kind of 
boarding, and with no further words the American 
officer climbed up the side and came along to the 
quarter-deck. 

“ I am Lieut. John B. Nicholson, of the American 
frigate United States , Capt. Stephen Decatur,” he 
said, saluting. “ Captain Decatur sends his compli- 
ments, sir, and desires to learn the name of this ship 
and the name of her commander.” 

“ This ship is his British Majesty’s frigate Mace- 
donian, Capt. John S. Carden,” answered the captain. 
“ Captain Decatur’s compliments are returned, and 
this ship is surrendered under the usual rules of war.” 

This ended the formal part of the scene, and the 
lieutenant saluted again and went to call up his men. 

The party was a small one, made up of sailors and 


282 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


a few marines, and the lieutenant merely stationed 
them at the gangways ; and by the break of the 
quarter-deck. 

Paul Woods still remained with his friend, though, 
after he had heard who the commander of the 
Yankee frigate was, he felt a powerful desire to 
rush down and accost the American officer ; and it 
was from the quarter-deck that he saw what next 
took place. 

Lieutenant Nicholson and his men were evidently 
surprised and shocked at the terrible sights on the 
frigate’s decks, and the lieutenant did not try to do 
anything toward securing his prisoners, but sent a 
message, instead, to Captain Decatur. 

Another boat, larger, and bringing more sailors 
and marines, as well as the surgeon and assistant- 
surgeon of the United States , soon left the other ship. 
When it arrived, the work of caring for the wounded 
and the remaining dead, and of putting the ship to 
rights, began. 

It is unnecessary to go into particulars as to this. 
The surviving officers and the most of the crew of the 
captured ship were transferred to the United States , 
and the preliminary work of relieving the vessel of 
fallen spars and other debris, and of righting and 
again mounting the overthrown guns, was attended 
to. By this time, Paul Woods and the other surviv- 
ing Americans had made themselves known to their 
countrymen, and, of course, were heartily greeted 
and congratulated. Paul then asked and received 
permission to help in the work that was going for- 


WHAT THE OTHER FRIGATE DID. 283 

ward, and for the next few hours found himself ex- 
tremely busy. In fact, it was not for hours alone, but 
for days, that the work lasted. The damage to about 
all parts of the Macedonian was surprising, and it was 
evident that without thorough repairs she could never 
betaken to port. On the second day after the battle, 
Paul got a chance to visit the United States , and, while 
there, had a short but very gratifying talk with Cap- 
tain Decatur. He found that gallant officer looking a 
little older and thinner than at their last meeting, but 
otherwise, not much changed. It was evident, cer- 
tainly, that he had lost none of his old fire and daring. 
Yet he was on this occasion very plainly and almost 
carelessly dressed, looking more like a farmer (as 
some of the prisoners afterward said) than like a naval 
commander. Nevertheless, it was evident that this 
indifference to external appearances went no further 
than his dress, for his ship, and everything concern- 
ing her, were models of order and trig neatness. 
The other officers, also, were well and carefully 
dressed. 

Paul found several opportunities to do little kind- 
nesses for the British prisoners, and particularly for 
Lieutenant Bulford, and these were received with 
gratitude and many expressions of good-will. But 
there was one person who was not disposed to accept 
these kindnesses, and who avoided Paul as much as 
he could. This was the little purser. Singularly 
enough, though he was not himself a fighting man, 
his pride apparently suffered more than that of any 
other man on board. It was evidently pure shame 


284 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

and mortification that made him feel toward Paul as 
he did. With everything else he doubtless remem- 
bered the amusedly contemptuous way in which he 
had spoken of the outcome of the battle. He was one 
of that class of apparently good-natured men whose 
jollity vanishes if the joke happens to be against 
them. 

While the repairs upon the Macedonian were going 
on, the details of the loss to both sides, in the battle, 
and other information as to the fight, were obtained. 
It appeared that the Macedonian had lost thirty-six 
killed and sixty -eight wounded ; this out of a total 
force of two hundred and ninety-seven. The United 
States had lost only five killed and seven wounded, 
which was out of a complement of four hundred and 
seventy-eight. Two of her wounded, however, soon 
afterward died. She lost no important spars except 
her mizzentopgallantmast, and her hull was but 
little injured. The difference in the skill of the 
gunners of the two ships was therefore remarkable. 
It was in connection with this skill that the now 
famous remark of Decatur to one of his gunners was 
made. The mizzenmast of the Macedonian had 
fallen over the side, and one of the gunners re- 
marked to another, “ Bill, we’ve made a schooner of 
her,” when Decatur happening to catch the words, 
struck in : “ Ay, and take good aim, my lads, and 
you’ll make a sloop of her ! ” 

This, in fact, the cool, deadly shooting fellows did, 
for in a few minutes all but the stump of the main- 
mast went over the side. 


WHAT THE OTHER FRIGATE DID. 285 

There were also stories told of the skilful hulling 
work of the gunners ; how they aimed at the yellow 
streak along the Macedonian s side, and more than 
once hit it. 

It would be, of course, unfair to deny that the offi- 
cers of the ship contributed an uncommon amount to 
the result. They were remarkably efficient men, 
and several of them afterward distinguished them- 
selves as commanders of ships of their own. Wil- 
liam Henry Allen, who was the first lieutenant, and 
John B. Nicholson were among these men. Lieut. 
John Musser Funck performed brilliantly in this 
fight, but near the end received his death-wound. 

Paul now had a chance to see another side of De- 
catur’s nature. He discovered that, besides being a 
brave man he was a chivalrous and humane one. 
He refused to take Captain Carden’s sword, when 
the unfortunate Englishman presented it, and after- 
ward gave back a number of articles that were 
legitimately and by custom prizes of war, including 
the casks of wine laid in at Madeira. Captain Car- 
den afterward expressed his appreciation of all their 
kindnesses and courtesies, and declared that Decatur 
could capture hearts as successfully as he did ships. 
He said this, too, in spite of a special humiliation 
connected with the affair. Before the war he had 
known Decatur, and had spoken rather slightingly to 
him of the probable fighting qualities of his crew and 
ship. 

As soon as some of the questions pertaining to 
immediate matters had been asked and answered, 


286 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


Paul and the other Americans eagerly inquired about 
the state of the war. There was not much news to 
tell, it seemed. The army was not yet on the move, 
— there was to be an invasion of Canada, — and the 
large vessels of the fleet had but recently put to sea. 
The United States herself had sailed in company 
with the President , Captain John Rodgers, the Con- 
gress, Captain John Smith, and the brig Argus, Mas- 
ter-Commandant Arthur Sinclair. These vessels 
had separated soon after leaving Boston, and the 
luck, good or bad, of the others was as yet unknown. 

All possible exertions were now made to complete 
the repairs on the prize, and at last she was pro- 
nounced sufficiently seaworthy. A prize-crew, com- 
manded by First Lieut. Arthur Allen, was put on 
board, and, with a favouring wind, both ships made 
sail. The course was laid for the Connecticut coast, 
being, in Decatur’s judgment, as good an objective 
point as any, though it was not forgotten that the 
risk in trying to make port anywhere thereabouts 
was considerable. It was known that British 
cruisers, sometimes sailing in small fleets, were 
ranging up and down the whole Atlantic seaboard, 
and were especially numerous from Boston to the 
Capes of Virginia. It was therefore with the feeling 
that in a few hours the tables might be turned, and 
they be below decks instead of above, that Decatur 
and his plucky and hard fighting company pointed 
their bows to the westward. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


ANOTHER CALL OF DUTY. 

B UT the good fortune of the fight was not inter- 
rupted by any unlucky happening. Early in 
December the lookouts sighted the coast of Rhode 
Island, and in a few hours they slipped safely into 
the port of Newport. Of course they were all 
heroes, forthwith, and the delighted people could not 
seem to do enough for them, but Decatur had made 
plans which prevented a long stay. He had made 
up his mind to proceed to New London and then to 
New York. This, disregarding friendly objections, 
he did, following Long Island Sound, and reached 
the city by the Hell Gate passage. 

Here the great cruise came to an end, and Decatur 
and his brave fellows were free to reap the reward of 
their labours. What their rewards were does not 
concern the story, but they were such as to stimulate 
every other naval commander and his crew to try and 
do likewise. 

Paul Woods remained in New York for awhile, 
and took part in the general rejoicings. Though 
he had not belonged to the victorious crew, it was 
known how pluckily he had behaved, and what an 
unfortunate predicament he had been placed in, and 
287 


288 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


he received almost the same attention as Decatur’s 
own people. He was not a vain young man, but he 
was human, and it would be absurd to say that he 
did not relish this lionising. But at last he began to 
consider that he was neglecting other things, and one 
day he took leave of his pleasant friends, and boarded 
a ship bound for Philadelphia. 

Arrived there, he first of all set about a duty, now 
almost constantly in his mind, of arranging for the 
removal and bringing over of his father’s body. 
This he attended to, and carried out in all details 
the old captain’s wishes. This done, he felt as 
though he could think of himself, and he proceeded 
to call on some of his old friends. Of course things 
had changed a great deal in the years that had 
passed, but still a great many people remembered 
him, and on all hands he received a hearty and 
cordial welcome. Matters now went on quietly with 
him for some time, for he was almost forced to accept 
invitation^ for long visits, and was passed about from 
one friend to another, as it were, and the first thing 
he knew the winter was over. He aroused and took 
himself in hand then, and began to consider what he 
should do. He had been fortunate enough to obtain 
his money and other small property from England, 
doing so mainly through the zealous aid of Lieu- 
tenant Bulford. The lieutenant had reason to feel 
grateful to Paul, for the latter had done all in his 
power to ease his unlucky friend through his mis- 
fortunes, and had visited him almost every day while 
in New York. In return he had received this great 


ANOTHER CALL OF DUTY. 


289 


and timely service. Nor was this all. The lieutenant 
wrote to friends at home, and aided Paul’s plans 
about the removal of his father’s body, finally going 
so far as to see that the ship which brought the re- 
mains across had the protection of a convoy. 

Kindness and generosity were thus mutually re- 
warded, and Paul’s returning good-will toward the 
people among whom he had lived so long was 
quickened. 

But sentiment alone, and even the help of a little 
money, does not make an income for continued 
needs, and Paul was obliged to put on his thinking 
cap again. Of course the suggestion that came first 
was to return to his old calling, but to this he had 
serious objections. He did not care to ship in any 
but an American vessel, and to do this was to take 
a considerable risk. British cruisers were more 
numerous in these latitudes than ever, and the cap- 
tures of Yankee merchantmen had grown more and 
more frequent. There was, to be sure, the navy, but 
toward that he was not at present inclined. Long as 
the time had been, it seemed but yesterday that he 
was fighting and taking desperate chances at Tripoli, 
and he had plainly before his mind’s eye the slaughter- 
pen deck of the Macedonian. He might feel differ- 
ently after awhile, but for now he would not consider 
the navy. 

But if not that or anything else to do with the 
sea, what then ? This was a very pretty puzzle of a 
question, and for some time it kept him employed. 
Finally he solved it, though not in a way that at 


290 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


the time exactly satisfied him. He turned farmer. 
This happened in the following way. There was at 
the time in Philadelphia — spending the winter — an 
old fellow by the name of Teague, and this man 
happened to make the acquaintance of Paul and con- 
ceived a great liking for him. He said that he was 
shortly going back to his home, which was in Maine, 
and that he would like to make some arrangement 
by which he could take Paul with him. He was a 
farmer, he explained, though he also did some fish- 
ing, and lived several miles from any village or other 
inhabited place, and he wanted assistance and com- 
pany. The only person with him now was an old 
negro housekeeper. He was willing to pay good 
farm wages, he said, and furnish “keep,” and he 
hinted that he might make Paul his heir. 

All this was rather tempting to the stranded sailor, 
though he did not fancy the isolation of such a life, 
and he finally consented. He was not much of a 
farmer, he had explained, though he hoped he could 
soon add to his knowledge, and become good for 
something ; and this the captain — he had once 
been the master of a coasting vessel, and was called 
captain — seemed fully satisfied with. However, Paul 
was not entirely green, for he had passed the most 
of his early years on a farm, and had then done a 
good part of the ordinary chores. 

So the matter was concluded, and in due time the 
young sailor tried the new occupation. He succeeded 
very well, throwing his usual energy and faithfulness 
into his work, and entirely satisfied the old captain. 


Another call of duty. 291 

The work, as he expected, was a little monotonous, 
and the isolation of the place, in spite of an occa- 
sional supply of books (he could not afford many, 
for at that time they were expensive), was a little 
deadening to his spirits. However, he kept steadily 
about his work, and did not grumble, and on the 
whole was fairly happy. 

All the while the war had been going on. Our 
forces on land were not very successful, but at sea 
we were making a brilliant record. Our few large 
ships almost invariably outfought the same number 
of the enemy’s vessels, and our privateers were con- 
stantly winning fame and money. Everything con- 
sidered, therefore, the war was thus far decidedly in 
our favour. 

Of course all this news finally reached the then 
remote (considering the methods of travel) Maine 
coast, and the captain and Paul eagerly heard and 
discussed it. The old fellow was a stiff patriot, and 
fully believed in the justice of the war, and declared 
with vehemence that “ we ought to keep pegging 
away till we had knocked the sense into the lobs- 
couring tyrants.” Paul was of the same opinion, 
though he used less and rather better language in 
declaring it. 

At last almost a year passed, and then something 
that led to important consequences happened. The 
old captain had scraped together a few fishermen and 
farmers’ boys, and made a fishing trip, and concluded 
that he would take his catch to Portland. 

« I’ll do that,” he said, “for I can’t find a decent 


292 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


market nearer, and while I am about it I’ll stock with 
our winter’s groceries.” 

This seemed to be a good idea, and it was carried 
out. But what was Paul’s surprise and amusement, 
when the sloop was again anchored in the little home 
cove, to discover that the captain, in addition to the 
expected supplies (New England rum, tobacco, gro- 
ceries, and so forth), had brought with him a small 
cannon. He grinned and put a fresh quid of 
tobacco in his mouth, as he saw Paul’s surprised 
look, and in his own way and very leisurely made 
his explanation. 

It was simply that he was going to establish a little 
private school in gunnery. 

“That is, there won’t be no regular schoolmaster,” 
he said, “but I will be a sort of gin’ral boss. You 
and such other young fellers as happens to come 
along can practise. Good gunners, they tell me, are 
wanted both ashore and afloat. Of course,” he added, 
“ I hope ’twon’t come so that you’ll be needed, but if 
you should, I know you’d be ready to go, and I want 
you to be well fitted and formed. Now this after- 
noon, before the boys leave, I’m going to get the old 
belcher ashore and have her mounted, and then the 
school will open.” 

If Paul had been surprised at the appearance of 
the gun itself, he was not less so at the explanation. 
It seemed to him that the idea was absurd, or at 
least impracticable, and as the captain finished he 
had all he could do to keep from laughing. 

“Well,” he finally said, “I never heard of such an 


ANOTHER CALL OF DUTY. 


293 


idea before, and I should want to see it tried before 
I passed an opinion on it. Is the gun sound ? ” 

“ All sound except that broken place in the outside 
aige of the muzzle and a cracked trunnion,” answered 
the captain. “Them things hurt the looks of it, but 
brought down the price, and don’t do no harm for 
my purpose. My idea is to get up a log carriage 
for it and practise a spell, and then put it on a raft. 
We can build somethin’ that’ll represent the deck of 
a ship. Anyway, it will give the heavin’ and rollin’ 
motion.” 

“ Oh, well,” said Paul, still as skeptical as before, 
but desirous to humour the old man’s whim, “ we can 
try it. It will be a little fun, if nothing more.” 

The captain nodded, but it was plain to see that he 
was in grim earnest. 

Then the gun was brought ashore, and the first 
step in the experiment taken. A long support, or 
carriage, well braced and weighted below with stones, 
was made, and the old piece mounted. It was not 
such a bad bit of ordnance, after all, come to look at 
it carefully. It was a naval gun of a good casting, 
and fired a ball weighing twelve pounds. On board 
a ship it would have been called a long twelve. The 
ammunition brought with it consisted of a large quan- 
tity of powder, a great bundle of wads, at least two 
hundred ordinary balls, and a hundred and fifty rounds 
of grape and canister. 

Paul had long believed that the old man was better 
off financially than people supposed, and this odd and 
expensive transaction rather confirmed the belief. 


294 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


The old fellow had not stinted his purchases of gro- 
ceries and other supplies, and seemed still to have a 
purse full of money. But for that matter, he always 
appeared to have the wherewithal to buy whatever 
he needed. 

“ The ammunition may outlast the gun,” Paul hu- 
mourously remarked to the old man, and went on 
with his warlike labours. 

The next morning the experiment itself began. A 
log was first towed out into the cove and fired at, 
and then the gun was slewed around and pointed at 
an object up the shore. 

“Well, Paul has beat you all pretty bad,” said the 
old man, when the trials were over, “ but yet he ain’t 
done ’stonishingly well. I think you’ll admit that 
you all orter have more practice. Will you boys 
stay with me a few days and get it ? ” 

The young fellows were looking for no better fun, 
and promptly and unanimously consented. There 
were four of them, and they were all strong, sturdy 
chaps, and well fitted for a gun’s crew. Paul, of 
course, was perfectly willing to go on. 

The next day more shooting was done, and this 
time all of the men improved. The third day the 
projected raft was begun, and when it was done the 
gun was mounted on it. This was a hard job, though 
ingenious tackle was used, and the workers were 
able. The raft was, of course, a large and strong 
one, and was protected from ordinary seas by low 
bulwarks. The gun was fired through a port in one 
of these. The target was the floating log at first 


ANOTHER CALL OF DUTY. 295 

used. This time Paul utterly defeated all competi- 
tors, striking the log fairly at the second trial. The 
distance was easy musket-shot. 

“ Seeing as you are all sea-dogs and ain’t likely to 
serve land guns, I’ll leave the old belcher where she 
is,” said the captain. “ We won’t put her again on 
land. Go ahead now, and blow that log — play it 
was a boat — out of water.” 

In this way the fun — to the captain a serious 
piece of business — went on. The men gradually 
became earnest and warmed to the work, and the 
shooting steadily improved. Paul also forgot his 
amusement and skepticism, and took additional pains, 
and likewise set his standard higher. In fine, the 
odd bit of experiment was to this extent successful. 

Of course the men soon had to go away, but two 
of them afterward came back, and both remained for 
nearly a week. Paul, in the meanwhile, kept up his 
practice, and made a little further gain. As he could 
not much alter the bearing of the gun, he moored 
the raft in new positions, and changed his targets. 
Finally, the ammunition gave out, and the smack 
was sent to Portland for more. 

“ I think my idea is succeeding,” said the old man, 
with a confident nod. “ I’ll have some gunners ready 
if the country should need ’em.” 

It is a fact that the unwavering confidence of a 
person in some project that he has formed will do 
wonders toward convincing others, and it is therefore 
not surprising that even Paul Woods at last took 
the old man’s experiment seriously, and only doubted 


296 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

whether he and the others would ever have the 
chance to put the skill they were acquiring into use. 

“ Although I don’t feel so averse as I did to stand- 
ing once more on a fighting ship’s deck,” added Paul 
to himself. 

But at last the time came when the old captain 
saw the beginning of his triumph. The war still 
held on, and no great impression seemed to have 
been made on the enemy. The Canadians yet de- 
fended their territory, and on the sea the crowding 
ships of the king checked, though they could not 
prevent, the shrewd manoeuvres and bold dashes of 
the American craft. Much was now done by daring 
privateers, and this cheered and encouraged the peo- 
ple, as well as put some money in their pockets, 
though it could not be said as yet to have an impor- 
tant bearing on the general result. It was at this 
juncture that the captain was to have a chance to 
justify his faith. Paul was one morning at work 
about the barn when the old man appeared in the 
door and held up a letter. 

“ Knock off and come out here a minute,” he said ; 
“ I’ve got something to tell ye.” 

Naturally surprised and curious, Paul dropped what 
he was doing and followed the old man out. It was 
hot in the sun, being only the last of August and a 
clear day, and the old captain kept on till he reached 
a bench under a spreading maple-tree. Then he sat 
down, and as soon as Paul had joined him put on his 
spectacles and opened the letter. 

“ There ain’t no need of my readin’ the whole 


ANOTHER CALL OF DUTY. 29 J 

thing through,” he began, “but I want you to listen 
to this paragraph : 

“ 4 So if Paul and one or two other likely young men 
about there want to put into practice what they have 
been learning, why, here’s their chance. Captain 
Reid, who will command the brig, is a good sailor 
and a born fighter. He didn’t accomplish much in 
the Boxer , but it was mostly because she was too 
slow for the work, and he didn’t want to take a big 
risk. With the General Armstrong it will be differ- 
ent. She has sharp heels, as she showed when 
Champlin handled her, and she is strong enough to 
whip almost any small war-ship. This chance won’t 
be open long, of course, for there’ll be plenty to 
volunteer on such a likely craft ; so Paul and anybody 
else that wants to come must decide soon. It was 
only through doing some small business for the 
owners that I knew of the chance. Let me hear 
from you as soon as possible.’ 

“ This comes from Mr. Havens, in New York,” said 
the captain, folding up the letter. “ He remembers 
you, as you know he used to see you at Perkins’s, and 
he’s kept track of what you’ve been doing, for I had 
occasion to write to him a spell ago, and I told him. 
Now there’s the whole thing. The brig General 
Armstrong is about going on a privateer cruise, and 
Havens can get you a berth on her. He’s one of 
the owners. I know something about the vessel, 
and she’s a fine, fast craft. Of course I don’t want 
to say anything urgin’ you, and you know that if I 
went by my own feelin’s and what was for my inter- 


298 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

est, I’d keep still, but there’s other things to think 
of. What do- you say ? ” 

Paul could hardly be very greatly surprised at this. 
It was what he had guessed might at any time come, 
and he had prepared himself accordingly. As the 
captain looked at him he answered, without hesitation : 

“ I will go. When is she to sail ? ” 

Captain Teague’s little eyes twinkled with satis- 
faction. 

“ She’ll be ready in a week or ten days, and will 
sail as soon as she gets a chance. She is in New 
York, and has got to run the gauntlet of a lot of 
British ships. But say, — this is what I thought of 
you, Paul, bein’ so ready to go.” 

“ It would be too bad to waste so much gun-prac- 
tice,” said Paul, smiling. “ I only hope I’ll have a 
chance to use it. Can you tell me anything more 
about the vessel ? ” 

The old captain saw that Paul was too modest to 
wish to hear anything further in the way of praise, 
and, with an air of getting down at once to business, 
answered : 

“ I can’t tell you all you’d like to know. I think 
she’s about two hundred and forty or fifty tons, and 
is not all square-rigged ; that is, she’s a brigantine. 
She’s stanch and a good sailer, and has the name of 
bein’ lucky. That’s all I know about her.” 

“Well, I can learn the rest when I see her,” 
said Paul, satisfiedly. “ Let’s plan now about my 
going.” 

So this important matter was decided, and the old 


ANOTHER CALL OF DUTY. 


2 99 


captain’s experiment was down in the book of fate for 
a trial. 

There is no need to dwell on the details of Paul’s 
preparations and going away, nor on the unimportant 
things that happened before his name was finally 
entered on the General Armstrongs books. For 
entered it was, and along with it another name, that 
belonging to a second pupil in the old captain’s 
school. The man’s name was Thurston. He was 
a big, muscular fellow, and was called a good sea- 
man, and plucky and reliable. He was also the best 
shot of the school next to Paul. 

Of course the first visit to the Armstrong was of 
the deepest interest to both of the young men. They 
found her to be a fair-sized brigantine, — to be pre- 
cise, she was of two hundred and forty-six tons bur- 
den, — and stanch and fast-looking. Her armament 
consisted of eight long 9-pounders and a long-tom, 
the latter a 42-pounder. 1 Her total complement of 
officers and men was ninety, and they made as fine 
a ship’s company as perhaps ever trod a deck. They 
were all, or nearly all, Americans, and every one 
was known to be a good sailor, and brought with him 
a reputation for pluck and tractableness. The first 
lieutenant was Fred A. Worth, a fine seaman and 
brave officer, the second was Alexander O. Williams, 


1 Barnes and some other authorities call this gun a 24-pounder, 
but Mr. S. C. Reid, son of the captain of the Armstrong , in a pub- 
lished account of the battle, says the gun was a 42-pounder, and 
gives an interesting account of how it came into the possession of 
the privateer’s owners. — The Author. 


300 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


and the third Robert Johnson. The rules, as Paul 
and Thurston were told, were to be practically the 
same as on a man-of-war. There were said to be 
stores on board for a long cruise, and plenty of 
all kinds of ammunition. The guns, other than 
the long-tom, were disposed four on a side, and 
the 42-pounder was mounted on a pivot amidships. 
There was hardly anything left to do toward starting 
when Paul and Thurston arrived, and before they 
were fairly installed in their new quarters the shore 
lines were cast off and the brig came to anchor near 
the Battery. Here she was to stay till the time 
favoured for the dash seaward. 

Paul now got acquainted with his messmates and 
became familiar with the vessel herself, and in a few 
days felt completely at home. Captain Reid proved 
to be rather a strict disciplinarian, especially for a 
privateer, yet was not harsh, and quickly won the 
respect and liking of the crew. In person he was a 
well-built man, was above the average height, and 
had a resolute but good-humoured face and a brisk, 
business-like bearing. Following the fashion of the 
time, he shaved the rAost of his face clean, showing 
his firm mouth and rather short, broad chin, and 
matched the little roll that his small side-whiskers 
made with a roll of hair combed high on the top of 
his head. At this time he wore a blue, longish coat 
with brass buttons and belted about him, the usual 
high collar and stock, and a stiff, high-crowned hat. 
His legs were covered by ordinary blue trousers, and 
his shoes were as little dandified as the rest of his 


ANOTHER CALL OF DUTY. 


301 


costume, being stout and thick, and set off with plain 
steel buckles. Such, in appearance, was Samuel 
Chester Reid. He was not then widely known, but 
had already done enough to make the brig’s owners 
think well of him and desire his services. 

Everything was soon ready for a dash past the 
British watch-ships, and all that was waited for was a 
suitable night. On the 9th of September it came, and 
with a little starlight to feel along by, and wind and 
tide favourable, the Armstrong suddenly broke out 
her anchor, and with her yards blossoming into 
white moved swiftly seaward. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 

HE moderate starlight was not bright enough to 



bring out objects far ahead, and at first nothing 
could be separated from the general seaward dimness. 
The varied glimmers of the town were turning to 
star-points over the stern, and the riding-lights of the 
ships were running together or suffering an eclipse 
in the narrowing focus of hulls. All hands were, of 
course, on deck, and every man was a watchman, 
with his eyes turned seaward. 

“ Sail, sir ! ” the low but eager word was suddenly 
passed along. The usual hail had been forbidden. 

Captain Reid was already standing by the knight- 
heads, and at this he started up the rigging. The 
man who had passed down the announcement was 
just above him. 

The question, “Where away ? ” did not have to be 
asked. Just over the starboard bow, not more than 
a long cannon-shot away, were opening up the pallid 
sails of a large ship. She was running with the wind 
about abeam, and would fall a little short of crossing 
the brig’s forefoot. 

“ Starboard a bit ! ” called down Reid from his 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 303 

“ Starboard a bit, sir,” echoed Mr. Worth, from 
the deck. The word travelled instantly to the wheel, 
and the brig’s bow was brought up a trifle. She was 
now on a course to edge away a bit from her dangerous 
neighbour. 

“ Steady ! ” called down Reid again. 

“ Steady, sir ! ” repeated the lieutenant. 

The phantom in black and white came a little 
nearer, and then abruptly squared her yards and 
stood directly seaward. 

“ That’s queer ! ” muttered a sailor near Paul. 
“ Don’t they see us ? ” 

And this was the general inquiry, spoken or looked, 
that ran around. 

No one could say ; and without deviation the other 
ship held her course. She was now made out to be 
a razee, and was certainly one of the watching fleet. 

Still on the brig steadily drove, and by and by 
she had shaken off this first dangerous prowler. In 
another minute or so she raised a second sail. 

“ Thicker than fiddlers in Tophet ! ” exclaimed 
Thurston, who stood at Paul’s elbow. Of course the 
words were spoken in a whisper. 

“Yes; but if we get by this one we shall have a 
good seaboard,” whispered Paul as cautiously back. 

The new craft was now seen close-hauled on the 
port tack, but was a rather reassuring distance away. 

“ Bring her up another point ! ” called down Reid, 
after a brief but careful look. 

It was done, and the brig dipped her lee bow with 
more of a burrowing souse into the lively seas. 


304 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


But this watch-dog ship was more suspicious than 
the other, and turned her great bulk sharply toward 
the little dodger. On she came, but with more fuss 
than speed, and it was not ten minutes before it was 
evident that she was hopelessly outsailed. She hung 
doggedly on for awhile, nevertheless, but then 
gradually altered her course and gave up, not trying 
a single gun, meanwhile. 

“ I am not afraid of anything else ! ” said Captain 
Reid, in a gratified tone, coming out of the rigging. 

“ I guess we are safe, now, sir,” said Mr. Worth, 
as confidently. 

The captain proceeded aft, and the lieutenant 
shortly relinquished the station to Mr. Williams, and 
followed him. The keenness of the watch, however, 
was not relaxed. It would need to be daylight and 
the sea bare on all hands, before the wary commander 
would call the initial step of the cruise a success. 

The next morning at sunrise the indefatigable 
captain was again on deck. There were a few shreds 
of mist hanging about the surface of the water, and 
from this low elevation nothing at any considerable 
distance away could be seen. The captain glanced 
up at the lookout, but the man was simply keeping 
an impassive but seemingly careful watch, and he 
said nothing. 

In a few minutes he was joined by Mr. Worth, 
and the two exchanged a few remarks, but both 
were looking continually around the developing 
sea-line and up at the lookout. 

By and by Mr. Worth took his glass and started 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 305 

to have a peep from aloft. Neither he nor the cap- 
tain was worrying any, but both wanted to feel sure 
that they had finally shaken the cruisers off. Sup- 
pose that they fell in with a prize, they did not want 
even a lumbering three-decker tagging along at their 
heels. 

The lieutenant was in the very act of starting up 
the shrouds, when the man far above him leaned out 
from his perch and bellowed : 

“ Sail ho!” 

“ Where away ? ” broke out Captain Reid’s clear 
voice, almost on the instant. 

“ About three points on the lee beam, sir,” was the 
answer. 

“ Watch her, and let me know the instant you 
make out anything,” shouted the captain. 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

Of course the stranger could not be one of the 
British guard-ships, though she might be an inde- 
pendent cruiser, and the next thing was to have a 
look at her. 

The lieutenant came back to the deck and began 
to make sail, and the Armstrong was quickly foaming 
along in the stranger’s wake. Of course the crew 
soon understood what was going on, and every man 
was quickly above the hatches. It was soon evident 
that the brig was gaining, and in a few minutes more 
the strange craft came out in the glass. She was a 
small schooner, and was under all the sail she could 
carry, her design being plainly to get away. 

After awhile she was seen to be throwing over- 


30 6 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

board her guns and other heavy articles, and in a 
little time more she parted with some lighter things. 
It was all useless, and without stirring tack or sheet 
the Armstrong came up with her. At the peremptory 
order of Reid she hove to, and a boat was sent down 
to her. What was the disappointment on the brig 
and the rejoicing on the schooner, when it was dis- 
covered that she was an American vessel ! She was 
the six-gun privateer Perry , Captain Coleman, of Bal- 
timore. 

There was nothing for it but regrets and good- 
byes and a speedy parting. 

This ended the day’s events for the rest of the 
afternoon, and the night passed without the sight of 
another sail. 

The next day something rather more exciting 
happened, for this time the lookout raised a small 
brig-of-war. It would be almost worth while to 
give this adventure at a little length, for it brought 
out Captain Reid’s combined pluck and caution, but 
there are matters of more moment waiting. The 
stranger proved to be an Englishman, and as she was 
larger and much more heavily gunned than the 
Armstrong , there was nothing for it but to let her 
alone. Yet Reid was not content till he had touched 
her up a bit, and accordingly he cast loose Long Tom 
and took a shot at her. The distance was long, and 
the ball missed, though it came creditably near. The 
brig then opened fire, and the shot flew wide of the 
Armstrong. Reid next sent in a few more shots, 
making close misses, and gave the order to stand 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 307 

away. There was a great temptation to try a little 
further, but the cruise had just begun, and this was 
not the business that a privateer was fitted out to do. 
The captain himself disposed of the incident in his 
official report in the following brief way : 

“ On the following day fell in with an enemy’s 
gun-brig ; exchanged a few shots with him, and 
left him.” 

The cool and almost amusing assumption is made 
that the privateer could “ leave him,” whenever she 
pleased. This was, in fact, the case, as the clumsy 
cruiser was a mere road-wagon compared with the 
light flying-machine of a privateer. 

The ship might now be said to be warmed up for 
her work, and all hands were at a fine, confident 
fighting pitch. As no other sail appeared that day, 
Captain Reid took the opportunity of giving the men 
a better idea of his plans for the cruise, and for that 
purpose summoned them aft. He said in substance 
that he was standing now for the Azores, and that if 
he ran across nothing meanwhile, he would take in 
water there and then proceed to the coast of Spain. 
From there he would be guided by circumstances. 
But he thought that before he had completed such a 
long cruise they must fall in with at least a few 
prizes. 

This announcement satisfied the men, who were, 
indeed, not very particular, and who had full confi- 
dence in the captain, and they saluted the speech 
with three cheers. Everybody was thus furnished 
something to speculate and talk about, and tongues 


308 a tar of the old school. 

ran freely and rather excitedly. It was, as may be 
guessed, a peculiar sight to Paul Woods, accustomed 
as he was to the jealously guarded plans of the com- 
mander of a regular man-of-war. 

Some quiet days next passed. The weather was 
pleasant and the brig drove steadily along, only two 
sails rising into the lookout’s glass, and both of these 
when it was too near dark to be overhauled. Finally, 
they were rewarded for their vigilance by discovering 
something that could be reached, and overhauled 
a small brig. But alas for their hopes ! She proved 
to be merely a friendly Spaniard. There were more 
regrets and apologies, and again the privateer filled 
away. The men now began to wonder whether 
there were none but friendly ships for the breadth 
of the Atlantic. But the strain upon their patience 
was not over yet. Shortly after parting with the 
brig they fell in with two more craft, a schooner 
and a full-rigged ship. The schooner was of the 
same nationality as the disappointing brig, while the 
ship was a Portuguese. 

“Well, ‘it is a long lane that has no turning,’” 
laughed Reid, “ and as we have come on this track two 
thousand miles we may be expecting something to 
turn up.” 

But the men — or at least some of them — were 
not disposed to look at the matter quite so philo- 
sophically, and they vented their feelings in a genuine 
forecastle grumble. Some, indeed, notwithstanding 
the privateer’s good name, began to call her an 
“unlucky ship.” However, this did not last long, 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 


309 


and tjie worst of the grumblers were soon in good- 
humour again, and waiting quietly for better luck. 

This did not come, for they raised no more sails ; 
but they learned to extend their patience over a 
longer time, and meanwhile something was thought 
of to employ their spare hours. It was not the cus- 
tom on privateers to work the men merely for the 
sake of keeping them busy, and if they were to be 
called upon for extra service, it must be something not 
considered a “ grind.” Captain Reid thought of this 
something. He put them through an extra drill at 
gunnery, giving small prizes for proficiency. As they 
were tractable, and, in fact, rather enjoyed the change, 
they rapidly improved, and soon surprised the captain 
by their work. Had he known what was in store for 
him and them, he would have felt like thanking Prov- 
idence as well, including gratitude for all that had 
brought about the result. 

As might have been prophesied, Paul Woods took 
a high rank in the gun-work. In fact, he divided the 
honours of first place with one other man. The 
observant captain, of course, had his eye on him, and 
at the end of the week promoted him to the com- 
mand of a gun. This piece was the aftermost in the 
starboard battery, and brought him immediately under 
the captain’s eye. It also happened to give him the 
station next to Long Tom, which was to be of moment 
in events to come. The captain, who was himself a 
good gunner, reserved the command of this big piece 
to himself. In case of a hot action, however, when 
he might be needed for other duties, he would call 


3io 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


upon some specially good man to take his place. 
Paul hoped that the time would come when he would 
be considered that good man. 

At last the cruise, like all cruises, came to an end, 
and the Armstrong dropped anchor in the bay of 
Fayal. More exactly, she anchored in the bay 
of the town of Da Horta, in Fayal. The anchor- 
ing ground was less than a mile from the nearest 
shore, and a little more from the governor’s 
castle. 

It was noon when everything about the ship was in 
order, and Captain Reid was ready to go ashore. He 
intended to call first upon the American consul, Mr. 
Dabney, and, after that, meant to see to watering the 
ship. Of course the matter of greatest importance 
just at present was to learn of the possible where- 
abouts in the vicinity of any British vessels. On the 
nature of this intelligence would depend his succeeding 
plans. 

By the time the captain reached the shore, a little 
company of curious people had gathered on the pier. 
The progress of the American war was known, and 
there was considerable curiosity to learn whether this 
smart and rather rakish craft was one of the world- 
renowned privateers. At least, there was a general 
desire to know whence such an able little vessel 
hailed. It was not long before the national colours, 
at first, for prudent motives, kept in the bunt, were 
broken out, and flapped gallantly at the peak. At 
the same time a jack was sent up to the foremast-head. 
At this, several persons in the crowd, no doubt 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 3 I I 

Americans, cheered, and the people about them set 
up a complimentary shout. 

“ They rather like the looks of us,” said Thurston, 
coming along to where Paul stood. 

“ Yes, they seem to,” was the answer, “and I guess 
they do feel friendly. There is no reason why they 
shouldn’t, though, for we are on good terms with 
their country.” 

“ What are they ? Natives crossed with Portu- 
guese ? ” asked Thurston, with another look. “ They 
seem to have enough bright-coloured clothes and 
such like.” 

“Yes,” said Paul, “though there is quite a sprin- 
kling of foreigners. The government of Portugal, of 
course, runs the whole thing, and that must mean 
that they go sort of at loose ends. It is the same 
with Spain, as I know from experience.” 

“ I think it likely ; I never was there. Our gig 
looks as though she might come from a man-o’-war, 
don’t she ? ” he broke off, with an admiring gesture. 
“ See how even the stroke is, and how like men-o’- 
war’smen the fellows look. It’s a little hot, though, 
for steel-rigged caps. The blue shirts and white 
trousers are all right. See ! they are fetching in. 
I guess that man in the white suit is the consul.” 

Paul said that he guessed the same, and from that 
they went on with a little more ordinary chat. The 
men about them were also lounging about, and in- 
dulging in similar speculations. For the time being, 
discipline was relaxed, though it would have needed 
but a single note of the boatswain’s whistle to send 


312 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


every man with a jump to his station. As for the 
deck and rigging, they were all that neatness and 
good seamanship could desire. The first was clean 
enough to eat from, and the second was well set up 
and trig to a T. 

After the first curious speculations about matters 
immediately going on had been made, and the talk 
lagged a little, Paul and some others began to devote 
renewed attention to the general surroundings. The 
harbour is a horse-shoe in outline, and is surrounded 
by gradually rising hills, or high ground, and the near 
shore is bounded by a fortified wall. About midway 
along this is the main structure of defence, a fort, or 
castle. It is called Santa Cruz. Out to the east- 
ward, a good four miles away, lies the island of Pico, 
rising in the centre to mountain height. The town 
itself begins back on the slope of the hills, and comes 
down to the fortifications and the water’s edge. 
Looking directly at the mouth of the harbour, one 
can see straight through the channel and out to sea, 
but on each side of this opening are high headlands, 
that limit the view to a narrow side range. The 
weather just at this time was fine, though a little 
warm, and the evenings were charming, for there 
was a full moon. The surroundings, therefore, were 
attractive, and the more so to the crew of the brig, 
from the contrast to the monotony of the sea. 

“ We are going to have shore-leave,” said one of 
the men to Paul, a few hours later. “ I just got the 
word. The skipper left the order when he went, but 
it seems it was thought best to keep it from us till 



PAUL JUMPED UPON THE NEIGHBOURING RAIL 





SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 


313 


now. I s’pose they thought we’d be too uneasy. 
We are to have from sundown till two bells.” 

“ That’s good ! ” said Paul, greatly pleased. Like 
his mates, he was longing to set his feet once more 
on land. “ It is getting along in the afternoon now,” 
he added, “so we sha’n’t have very long to wait.” 

The man assented and lighted his pipe. He and 
the others were now in a little fever to get away, 
and the rest of the afternoon would seem like the 
whole of a day. Finally, it was close to five o’clock, 
and then the men on deck saw Captain Reid walk 
down to the pier and board his boat. 

“ Coming off early,” remarked one. “ Wonder 
why he is doin’ it.” 

“Give it up,” said his elbow neighbour, “unless 
’tis he wants to set us a good example. Guess we 
sha’n’t follow it, though. I am for taking all there 
is up to the limit.” 

“ Perhaps there is something wrong,” put in a 
third man. “ What are you up to, Paul ? ” 

Paul had cast a glance seaward, and all at once 
jumped upon the neighbouring rail. 

“ Look for yourselves,” was his answer. 

Even from the deck the glimmer of a white sail 
could be seen thrusting by the northeast ' headland. 
It was evidently the jib of a large vessel. 

“Well, that may mean something,” said the first 
speaker. “ Hello ! I should say it did ! She’s a 
brig-of-war ! ” 

It was true, for a two-masted, square-rigged vessel, 
with all the “ ear-marks ” of a fighting craft, includ- 


314 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


ing a row of gun-ports, was now slipping clear of the 
headland. 

A ripple of excitement ran around, which was in- 
creased as a middle-aged, experienced seaman broke 
out : “ Boys, I call her English ! ” 

“Then there’s reason enough for the old man 
coming back,” said another sailor. “ He and the 
consul probably made her out.” 

This was immediately adopted as the explanation, 
and all fell silent and looked from the brig to the 
coming boat. 

In a few moments the captain was alongside. He 
came up the ladder wearing his usual calm and genial 
look, though more than one pair of eyes noted that 
the first glance he gave, as he stepped upon the 
deck, was not about him, but off toward the brig. 

But after a moment he turned and nodded pleas- 
antly at the crew. 

“The consul has given us a compliment for our 
man-o’-war appearance,” he said. “ Sorry about 
your shore-leave, boys, but I shall have to withhold 
it for to-night. To-morrow we’ll see.” 

He passed on and went down the companion. 

“ Oh, hang the compliments ! ” broke out one of 
the men as soon as he was out of sight. “ What we 
want is the fun. What’s the row why we can’t have 
it?” 

“ Stow that gaff, and wait till we see what the 
reason is,” said a bright-looking sailor, sharply. “ I 
guess that brig is the matter.” 

“ I didn’t ask you for your guess,” snapped back 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 3 1 5 

the first man, “ and I’m not going to stow my gaff, 
either — not till I choose to. If you don’t like 
that, you know what you can do ! ” 

“ Boys ! ” The word came with such a suggestion 
of authority that both of the men instinctively 
checked themselves. “ This is a poor time to quar- 
rel. We are going to have fighting enough of an- 
other kind ! ” 

It was Paul Woods who spoke, and with the words 
he nodded significantly toward the mouth of the 
harbour. The attention of the others had for the 
moment been called away from the suspicious ship, 
but at this they looked back. There was no need of 
explanations. Two larger vessels than the brig, the 
second, in fact, a great castle of a ship of the line, 
were following the first craft into the harbour. 

The men looked long and scrutinisingly, and by 
degrees fell silent. The angry fire died out of the 
disputants’ faces. 

“ Woods,” spoke up one man, after a few dubious 
glances had been exchanged, “you know as much 
about war craft as any man on board. Specially 
you ought to know about British vessels. Ain’t 
them John Bulls ? ” 

“ Why,” said Paul, unhesitatingly, “ I call them 
so. Their build and rig look like it, and you can see 
their black topmasts. Put all the things together 
and I don’t doubt.” 

There was an instant of sombre silence, broken 
finally by a few long breaths. Some of the men 
walked to the rail and spit out quids of tobacco, and 


31 6 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

others thoughtfully bit off more. Things were look- 
ing decidedly ominous. 

“But how is it,” spoke up one man after a time, 
“ will those fellows dare to attack us ? This is a 
neutral port.” 

No one answered, but several looked inquiringly 
at Paul. He had already won the position among 
his mates that his clean conduct, sea experience, and 
general intelligence deserved. 

“ I don’t know how it is,” answered Paul in re- 
sponse to the implied question, “ but I give it as my 
opinion that the neutrality won’t be respected. I 
think that the English commodore, or whatever he is, 
will remember that England is strong and Portugal 
is weak.” 

“ Then we shall have to fight,” exclaimed one man, 
with a convinced nod. “ All right, but it’s going to 
be pretty hot work.” 

The anxious but plucky fellows then began to pro 
and con the situation, wondering what the captain 
would do. 

All agreed that he would not try to fight where 
they lay, as such a course would be madness. To 
get near shore, where the big vessels could not fol- 
low, and where the Armstrong might be a match for 
the brig, seemed to be the only sensible plan, and 
even that would mean desperate work. 

Meanwhile the supposed English brig drew along, 
and seemed to be making preparations to anchor. Just 
then Captain Reid came on deck. He was followed 
by Mr. Worth and the second lieutenant. It seemed 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 


317 


now that he had quietly and without attracting gen- 
eral notice called these officers below, no doubt for a 
brief conference. 

Mr. Worth came quickly down among the men, 
and ordered the first cutter to be called away. 

“ Get a stream anchor into her,” he went on. 
“ Look alive, all of you ! ” 

“ That’s the talk ! ” whispered Thurston to Paul. 
“ The old man is goin’ to have all the show there is.” 

There was no time for an answer, for at this point 
the lieutenant began to give further orders and all 
hands had to bestir themselves. At the proper 
moment the cable was cut and the sweeps were put 
out. Of course it was now plain what Captain Reid 
meant to do. It was to get out of the reach of the 
big ship and the frigate, and then wait for the boats 
and the brig. He would first anchor, and as soon as 
he was broadside on would put a spring on the cable. 
He would thus be in a favourable position to use his 
guns, and at the same time could not be raked. 

All this was done, but before it was quite con- 
cluded sounds of .an unusual stir began to come 
from the ships, and in a few minutes several boats 
were lowered. 

“ They’ll soon be upon us!” muttered Thurston. 
“ Lucky that great wooden fort can’t get nearer. 
What do you make out that they carry for guns, 
Paul ? ” 

“ The big fellow has seventy-four, the frigate forty- 
four, and the brig eighteen,” answered Paul. “Is 
that your count ? ” 


3 1 8 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

“Yes. But don’t you suppose — ” 

“Sh ! Worth is coming.” 

The first lieutenant appeared from the quarter- 
deck. 

“We shall anchor in a moment. All hands to 
quarters ! Make no fuss about it ! The magazine 
will be opened, and arms immediately passed along. 
Silence, fore and aft ! ” 

By the time the lieutenant had finished, the men 
had dropped quietly out of the former groups and 
taken their stations. As yet nothing had been done 
that could lead the people on the ships to suppose 
that any serious alarm was felt. The change of 
anchorage would be no more than a measure of 
precaution, and, in any case, no hint of resistance 
had been given. It was all-important to fool the 
foe as long as possible, and encourage him to 
send at first a small and inadequate attacking 
force. 

The brig was all this while moving along toward 
her new anchorage, which was meant to be pretty 
well in toward the castle. From there it would be 
easy, if the worst should happen, to escape to the 
shore. The movement had taken time, and already 
darkness had come on. It was not to be unrelieved 
darkness, however, for the moon was getting up, and 
though she was just now dimmed by some muslin- 
like clouds, her light filtered through, and pretty dis- 
tinctly brought out the bay and shores. The wind, 
in the meantime, had died away, and the water was 
almost like glass. 


SOMETHING TO DO AT LAST. 


319 


Captain Reid had momentarily gone below again, 
but now came back, and began to use his telescope. 
After a long look he lowered the instrument, and 
turned to Mr. Worth. Paul was so near that he 
caught the words. 

“They are filling t'hree boats, and getting ready for 
a start. We won’t wait any longer. You may anchor.” 

“Very well, sir.” 

The order was brought forward by the lieutenant 
in person, and the anchor was let go. As soon as 
the cable had run out to the proper scope, the 
spring was got on it, and the brig’s head was brought 
around. She now lay with her broadside toward the 
coming boats. 

“Woods, what are you loaded with?” asked the 
captain, in the first interval of silence after the last 
order had been executed. 

“ Grape and canister, sir.” 

“ Right ! I only wanted to be sure. Carter, is 
Long Tom all ready ? ” 

“ He is, sir.” 

“ All ready at the other guns ? ” 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

“Then stand by, and keep your eyes and ears 
open. Don’t fire till I give the word. Silence, now, 
fore and aft ! ” 

In the renewed hush that fell upon the crowded 
deck Captain Reid quietly took off his coat, and 
walked to Long Tom. A glance across the water 
showed the dark shapes of the bobbing boats. At 
that moment the moon broke from her trailing fleece 


320 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


of clouds, and shone down brilliantly. With a flash 
of oar-blades the boats then suddenly appeared to 
grow large, and all at once were rising and dipping 
within a musket-shot of the brig’s side. One large 
launch was in advance, the others trailing a few 
fathoms behind. 

There were looks of impatience on the faces of 
the line of crouching men when Captain Reid picked 
up his trumpet, and stepped to the rail. 

“ Boats ahoy ! ” he bellowed. The sound echoed 
over the water. 

There was no answer, though it seemed as though 
the speed of the first boat was momentarily checked. 

“ Boats ahoy ! ” he sang out again. There could 
surely be no complaint that he was not heard. 

Still no answer. 

“ Boats ahoy ! ” he shouted for the third time. 

After perhaps a second of grim silence a heavy 
voice on the boat growled out : 

“ What’s the matter ? ” 

“ Make no answer, there ! ” angrily broke in a 
voice in the stern-sheets. “ Ready all ! Fire, and 
lay them aboard ! ” 

A burst of noise broke from the boats, and they 
jetted out in flame and smoke. 

Almost at the same instant Reid jumped back, and 
stooped over the breech of Long Tom. For two 
seconds he was immovable, and then he sprang back, 
carrying the lanyard in his hand. 

“ Fire ! ” 



THE ATTACK ON THE GENERAL ARMSTRONG. 




































































V 























CHAPTER XXV. 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 



HE little vessel jarred to her keel with the 


explosion, and the billow of smoke rose and 
blended with that from below. The men tried to 
peer through it, but got only vague outlines for the 
instant. As the noise died away, groans and con- 
fused shouts came up from the water, and a splash- 
ing began as though a school of some great fish had 
been hooked. 

“ Stand by at the starboard guns ! ” thundered 
Reid, rushing now out of the smoke, and crossing 
to that side. 

Three launches had passed under the stern, and 
men in them were twisting their heads about and 
drawing their pistols, or were already standing up to 


fire. 


The discharge came, and balls thudded into the 
wood of the rail and hummed like so many angry 
bees by their heads. Apparently, not a man was hit. 

Reid waved his sheathed sword and roared, “ Fire ! ” 
and the four guns poured their contents into the pack 
of upturned faces and crowded figures. 

Wood could be heard to split, and again there was 


322 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


the fish-like splashing with the chorus of shouts and 
groans. 

“ Quarter ! quarter ! ” could now plainly be heard 
from the other side. Those left to float around 
amongst the wreckage were receiving no help, and 
some were drowning or bleeding to death. 

“ Every man keep his station ! ” cried Reid, in a 
voice heard above the din. 

There was no certainty as to the damage that had 
been done, and swarming figures might at any mo- 
ment appear above the bulwarks. There was an 
instant’s pause, and all hands stood watching and 
listening. 

The lingering films of smoke drifted away, and the 
noses of the three launches popped out into sight. 
In the bow of each a man was doubled down, and in 
the first and second the forward thwart was vacant. 
As they drew out farther, gaps could be seen at other 
places, and a man here and there sat bowed over, or 
leaned against the side. An officer seemed to be 
down in the stern-sheets of the first boat, and the man 
who steered the second was slewed around and braced 
against one of the sailors. The boats all pulled 
heavily, as though they were badly shattered. 

“ Say, sir, sha’n’t we cheer ? ” shouted a sailor at 
an after gun. 

“ Not yet,” answered the captain, with a shake of 
the head. “ I will tell you when.” 

As he spoke Lieutenant Worth came up. 

“ You see that outside launch is still afloat, sir,” 
he said. “ There seem to be several men in her, and 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 


323 


more climbing aboard. A good shot would stave 
her up.” 

“ But we won’t fire it,” said Captain Reid, with 
decision. “What I mean to do is to defend this 
ship ; that, and nothing more.” 

“Very well, sir.” 

“What are our losses?” 

“ A man over there is dead ; I don’t know who it 
is,” answered the lieutenant, “and I believe that two 
or three are slightly wounded ; I am a little touched, 
myself.” 

“ Why, you are more than that ! ” exclaimed the 
captain, with a sudden change in his look and man- 
ner. “ You are pale, and there is blood running down 
your coat. Go below at once, sir, and report to the 
surgeon.” 

“ I suppose I must, sir, though it goes against 
the — ” He broke off, and slightly staggered. 

“ Here, give him a hand, some of you,” shouted 
Reid, himself rushing up and supporting the fainting 
officer. “That’s it, Woods. Support his head.” 

For Paul had dashed at once to the assistance of 
the gallant officer whose character and courage he 
deeply respected. The gun would not need his ser- 
vices just at present. 

They took the lieutenant below, and when they 
came back, they met three men carrying the dead 
sailor. Half doubled up though he was, and with his 
chin down on his breast, Paul recognised him. He 
was the man who had been so unwilling to lose his 
shore-leave, and who had all but come to blows with 


324 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


his shipmate. His fighting of all kinds was at last 
over, and he had secured a leave so long that even a 
sailor could be satisfied. After all, he was a brave 
man, and heads would be bowed in respect when the 
old flag, like a mantle of love, as well as of charity, 
should cover him. 

“ This is only a breathing spell,” said Captain Reid 
to Mr. Williams, the second lieutenant, who just then 
came up. “ They’ll be back pretty soon, in force. I 
am going to run in by the castle and be ready again 
for them. If they beat us at last — as I suppose 
they must — we will scuttle the ship and go ashore. 
I understand that nobody is seriously hurt, except Mr. 
Worth, and that only one man is dead.” 

“That’s all, sir. We got off wonderfully well.” 

“We did. Of course the bulwarks were a great 
protection, and we didn’t let them get higher 
than their boats. We must try to do the same 
again.” 

“ It will be hotter work, sir, for they will come in 
force, as you say. Being Englishmen, they won’t 
give up.” 

“ Not a bit of it. Well, we must be making our 
start. Get the anchor up and the sweeps out. 
We’ll send her straight for the castle.” 

.“Very well, sir.” 

The anchor was quickly out, and the long sweeps 
put over. As they began to move, Reid took a turn 
about the deck, and gave a few additional orders. 

“ We must knock out a couple of extra ports, and 
bring two of those guns over,” he said to Mr. Will- 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 325 

iams. “Let it be right there — just abaft the 
gangway. Mr. Johnson?” 

“ Sir ? ” The third lieutenant stepped forward. 

“ See that the boarding-nettings are spread, and 
have some hands rig booms to drop down by the bow. 
There are plenty of spars. Set a stiff boom, so as to 
keep the boats well off.” 

“ It shall be done, sir.” 

“ Here, Woods ! ” 

Paul was surprised that he was of sufficient im- 
portance to receive special orders, but of course 
instantly responded. 

“Turn over your gun to Hanson and take Long 
Tom. I may get in a few cracks with it, myself, but 
if I don’t, you must. I like the way you handled 
your gun, though I don’t know whether you hit your 
mark or not. Anyway, your actions were business- 
like. You may load with grape and a little scrap- 
iron.” 

“Very well, sir ! ” 

Paul’s manner was strictly business-like, accord- 
ing to the captain’s idea, as he received this order, 
and acknowledged it, but it can be guessed how he 
felt. He had been finely honoured, and had got the 
station that, of all others, he had longed for. He 
quietly gave Hanson the captain’s order, and walked 
over and began to load Long Tom. At last it 
seemed as though he might have a chance to show 
the learning of one who had been graduated in 
Captain Teague’s “ school.” 

The defeated launches were, by this time, well on 


326 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


their way back to the ships, and already it was clear 
that their failure was known. Additional lanterns 
began to flash about the decks, and there was a faint 
din of voices and stir as of movements of considerable 
bodies of men. 

All the ports were open and glowed almost like so 
many furnace doors with light. The brig had pre- 
viously separated from the others, but at this point 
she moved still farther out into the harbour. It was 
probable that she meant to take part in the second 
attack. This she could do under her sails if she 
waited an hour or two, for there was every indication 
that the wind was getting ready to spring up. 

It did not take the brigantine long to reach her 
new anchorage, and take her chosen position. She 
was moored head and stern, this time, and was not a 
pistol-shot from the beach. As before, she opposed 
her starboard side to the attack. 

The people on shore were now in a fever of excite- 
ment, as could be seen from the numbers running 
about and dodging in and out of the houses. Groups 
were also — notwithstanding the danger — forming 
on the piers. The windows were everywhere spring- 
ing up with lights, as though there was meant to be 
a general illumination. 

By and by there was a stir on the nearest pier, and 
two men in some kind of uniform came in sight. In 
a few moments a handsome boat was pulled around 
from the other side of the pier, and the officers 
entered it and headed it into the harbour. They 
kept on till they reached the British seventy-four 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 


327 


(there was no longer any doubt that the three ships 
were British), and apparently handed up some mes- 
sage. There was then a considerable delay, but 
finally an object that Captain Reid’s glass made out 
to be some kind of small object like a packet was 
handed down, and the boat pulled back. 

“No doubt a remonstrance from the governor to 
the commander of the fleet ,” 1 observed Captain 
Reid ; “ but I have no faith that it will do any 
good.” 

“ Oh, I don’t believe it will, sir,” said Mr. Williams, 
to whom this remark was addressed, “for if they 
were as reasonable as that, they wouldn’t have done 
as they have.” 

“ Well, we will try to make the price they pay for 
the Armstrong a reasonably high one,” returned the 
captain. “ Ah, the wind is coming at last ! ” As he 
spoke, a little ripple swept across the water, blurring' 
the glint of the moonbeams. 

“They are starting,” said Mr. Johnson, a moment 
later. “They are going to the brig for a tow.” 

This appeared to be the case, for several boats, all 
black with men, put out from the seventy-four and 
the frigate, and began pulling toward the brig. 

“That is what I looked for,” said the captain, after 
a glance through his telescope. “ Here, take this 
and tell me how many boats you make out.” 

He passed the instrument to the lieutenant, who 
readjusted the lenses and took a careful look. 

1 Such a remonstrance was made, but Captain Lloyd, the com- 
manding officer, declined to entertain it. — The Author. 


328 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“Fourteen, sir, and they are all loaded to the 
guards.” 

“ I called it fourteen. At thirty-five or forty to a 
boat — well, we shall have to fight over four hundred 
men.” 

“Yes, sir. Besides, if the brig gets near enough, 
she will join in.” 

“ I don’t think she will come up at once,” said the 
captain. “ She couldn’t fire without killing some of 
her own men. That is, she couldn’t if the boats 
made a general attack. We may hear from her later. 
Is everything ready forward ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then you may as well go to your station. Give 
the men a cheering word. Tell them that the shore 
is handy, but that they mustn’t remember that till we 
have given an account of a few more of those boats.” 

“ I will tell them, sir.” 

The lieutenant handed back the glass and went 
forward, and for a time the former quiet fell upon 
the ship. Paul Woods afterward declared that the 
deck would have seemed deserted except for the deep 
breathing of the men. That his ear caught, though 
not till everything else had quieted down, and there 
was no noise from inanimate things except the occa- 
sional creaking of a swaying spar, or the faint, inde- 
scribable noises that in quiet times can be heard from 
the depths of a ship’s interior. Over in the water 
there was no sound but the poppling of the small 
waves breaking against the side. 

Such a time as this is more trying than the actual 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 


329 

shock of battle, and more than one man lost colour, 
or showed the effect of the strain in the anxious stare 
of his eyes or the occasional sudden droop from a 
rigid posture. 

But all things have an end, and after awhile it 
was seen that the tryingly delayed moment had come. 
The brig got up her courses and one jib, and laid her 
head fair for shore. The great pack of boats then 
dropped back till only a few were abreast, and strung 
out in a long black tail. 

The distance was not great, and in a few turns of 
the second-hand of a watch the brig crossed the line 
of short cannon-range. Here she cast off her tow, 
and slowly went about. As soon as she was in the 
wind, her jib and then the courses came in, and she 
let go her anchor. 

“ Woods/’ said Captain Reid, in a low voice to Paul, 
“train your gun on the leading boat. Aim low, so 
as to be sure and sweep her. Mr. Williams, pass the 
word along that none of the other guns are to fire 
on the leading boat. As far as possible let them 
concentrate their fire on those nearest behind her. 
Tell them on no account to fire in advance of the 
word.” 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

Mr. Williams walked down the line and repeated 
the order. It proved to be unnecessary, except for 
those in the bow, for so still was the ship that the 
others distinctly heard. There was a succession of 
understanding nods and resolute “ay, ay’s,” as the 
lieutenant addressed each gun’s crew, and there 


330 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


could be no doubt left that everything that obedience 
and stubborn pluck could do would be done. 

On came the boats, still trailing out like a huge 
serpent, and drew within musket-range. Then a 
second trying and seemingly inexplicable thing took 
place. Instead of pulling straight at the brig, the 
head boats turned in behind a little rocky reef, or 
island, and the others followed. Here all but three 
on the outside were protected, and here the formidable 
array was again re-formed. This time it was divided 
into three divisions, but as soon as this was done one 
pulled in behind the first and the other behind that, 
till another long snake was formed. But this time it 
was in parts, and it was broader and less compact 
than at first. 

Everything now indicated that the struggle was at 
last at hand, and the few final preparations that men 
think of at such times were made. Again a sickening 
delay. Minute after minute passed, and the boats 
did not move. 

“ Why do they wait, do you think, sir ? ” said Mr. 
Williams, in a low tone, of the still imperturbable- 
looking Reid. Williams was a young and impetuous 
man, and the strain was proportionally great. 

“ Probably to see if it won’t cloud over,” responded 
the captain. “ I can think of nothing else.” 

“Well, I for one would agree to a fog, if they’d 
only come,” said the officer, with a long breath. 

The captain merely shifted his weight to the other 
leg, and smiled. 

So the time dragged along. One, two, three hours 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 


331 


passed. But at the very time when it would have 
been the quartermaster’s duty to strike eight bells 
Reid straightened up from a leaning posture. He 
pushed his sword around till it was under his arm, 
and picked up his trumpet. 

At the same moment a few men overhanging the 
rail whirled about, and five or six sitting in the range 
of the ports jumped up. 

“ All hands ready at quarters ! ” was the low, 
steady call. 

There could be no mistake about matters, this time. 
The first line of boats was passing out from behind 
the islet and heading that way, and the next was 
closely following. 

No final commands were needed. The actors in 
the play were perfect in their parts, or if not, it was 
too late to become so. 

The distance to the islet was so short that the 
boats were already close at hand, and the gunners 
like one man stooped and glanced along their pieces. 

Reid sprang upon a stool at the companion entrance, 
and slowly drew his sword. Now one extra-sized 
launch separated from the rest, and forged ahead, 
and the others formed in a double file. 

“At the guns ! ” Here Reid’s voice broke out in a 
crystal-clear tone. “ Change your plan of fire so as to 
converge upon the first three pairs of boats. Woods, 
take care of the leader. All ready ! Fire ! ” 

The tremendous noise filled the air and drowned 
all lesser sounds, and the smoke caught the wind and 
billowed back upon the deck. Then, as a few hours 


332 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

before, shrieks and confused cries came out of the 
thickness, and there was an answering boom of guns 
and pistols, and the digging of bullets into the 
protecting bulwarks. 

The smoke was thin enough to see through by the 
time this first heavy volley was over, and, in spite of 
the risk, the anxious men peered out of gun-ports 
or raised themselves on the rail. Their work had 
been beyond what they could have imagined. The 
water was black with bobbing figures, and a ship 
could scarcely have gone down and left more floating 
wreckage. There were at least three boats wholly 
stove, among them the one that had been in the lead, 
- and two more were so heaped with dead men that 
they were mere floating coffins. The half-bucketful 
of grapeshot and scrap-iron from Long Tom seemed 
to have blown out of the world all, or nearly all, of 
those in the head boat, and the converging fire of the 
rest of the battery had been relatively about as 
dreadful. 

This was the entire foreground of the picture, but 
there was a background, for out in the distinct moon- 
light were coming along the boats containing the still 
unhurt crews, and the shouts of officers were going 
up from them, and musket and pistol flashes were 
spitting redly out. 

“ In guns, and close the ports ! ” bellowed Reid, 
using the trumpet now, and stalking down to the 
break of the quarter-deck. “ Lively with you, for 
they’re coming on fast ! ” 

It was a fact that, though the discharge had done 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 


333 


such execution, there were more than three hundred 
men left, and these were bending to their oars, and 
coming at a foaming rate toward the ship’s side. 

“ Pepper them ! ” cried Reid, as he spoke whirling 
around, and taking from one of the messenger boys a 
brace of pistols. He thrust both arms over the rail, 
as he finished, and fired. 

The fighting now grew every moment hotter. 
There were plenty of muskets ready at hand, and the 
men’s belts were loaded with pistols. There was a 
constant jumping back, catching up one weapon or 
another, and leaping again to the rail and firing. The 
moonlight was shining down in its midnight glory, 
now, and it struck full on the black, bobbing boats 
and closely packed crews. Every few minutes these 
dark masses came out in the sudden glow of a musket 
or pistol flame. But soon the rapid fire of the 
defenders seemed to break up the regular array of 
the boats, though all but one or two still kept 
doggedly on. As they drew in, the officers could be 
heard encouraging the men, and now and then a crew 
would break out in a cheer. 

“ Cap’n Reid, can’t we return that cheerin’ ? ” in a 
kind of hot desperation finally broke out one of the 
after-deck men. 

“ Not now ; wait till we’ve licked ’em,” was the 
imperturbable answer. 

The next moment two or tlj-ree of the boats 
bumped against the brig’s side, and the loud tones 
of the officers came out startlingly near. 

“Up and board, my lads, — no quarter ! Give it 


334 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


to the pirates ! ” came from one of the boats. It 
was followed by a hand-and-foot scramble up the 
side. 

“ Down with them ! ” shouted Reid, picking up his 
sword. “ Stand by to repel boarders ! ” 

He took his sword in his left hand (he was left- 
handed), and with a pistol in the other rushed to the 
rail. Paul Woods, whose station with small arms 
was here, sprang after him, and cocked a pistol. 

It was hardly done before a flushed, handsome 
young face rose above the bulwark, and a long, white 
hand shot a clasp over the rail. 

It was a hard thing to do, but the man took the 
chances of war. Paul’s pistol went out and flamed, 
and the white hand relaxed and the handsome face 
vanished. 

This seemed to mark the beginning of a truly 
desperate piece of work, for in a twinkling five or six 
other heads popped into sight, and two or three arms 
shot out for a hasty aim with pistols. One or two 
of the arms were beaten down or half cut off, but 
one pistol was fired and a sailor let fall his cutlass. 
More heads and armed hands followed, and all at 
once Paul realised that this part of the assault was 
succeeding. 

He had been gathering himself for a greater effort 
than he had hitherto made, and here he collected all 
his powers and made a furious forward rush. 

The man just ahead of him was a great leather- 
skinned tar, with a face nearly as broad as a platter, 
and a huge, hairy chest. He made a step forward 


STUBBORN YANKEE TARS. 


335 


and jerked up his cutlass, but was the fraction of a 
second too late. 

The darting, half-twisted jab laid open the whole 
side of the great face, and with a frightful oath the 
man dropped his weapon and staggered back. 

Paul had recovered himself on the instant, and also 
had sprung back. He now advanced again, and as 
a man in officer’s uniform crossed swords with the 
captain he swept in upon a second sailor. 

He bothered and then slightly wounded this man, 
and was pressing him hard, when the whole side of a 
building — he afterward said it seemed like that — 
crashed against him, and everything flew into sparks, 
and he and all else settled away in an utter void. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


DESPERATE WORK. 



HE next that Paul knew he was vaguely uncom- 


-L fortable, and was making a weak effort to move. 
He succeeded after a moment, and then all at once 
came to himself and opened his eyes. He was 
sprawled out on his back, and there was an open 
sky and stars overhead. All around was a din of 
noise, particularly the running about of feet and 
the banging of guns and pistols, and now and then 
a hoarse shout. Like a flash, his whole mental 
machinery suddenly jumped into operation, and he 
sat up. 

The fight was still going on, but not quite so hotly, 
and the deck was cleared of boarders. Two or three 
bodies lay along by the bulwarks, and another was 
making a silent spread-eagle near the door of the 
companion, but other than this there was no visible 
evidence of hard fighting. He saw that the man 
spread out was an English sailor, and thought that 
at least one of the seamen by the bulwarks had on 
a British naval cap. This was easily distinguishable 
from the peculiar steel-strapped affair worn by the 
Armstrong' s crew. 


336 


DESPERATE WORK. 


337 


At this juncture Paul felt a dull pain in his head, 
and on putting his hand up found that there was a 
wound, or bruise, just above his left ear. It was 
bloody, but seemed to be hardly more than on the 
surface, and he concluded that it was not dangerous. 
A glancing ball might have done it, or perhaps a 
furious sailor had hurled some missile. He knew 
that at such moments excited fighters would some- 
times throw whatever things they might happen to 
have in their hands. 

The little satisfying examination over, the next 
thing was to try to get back to duty, and he made 
a resolute effort and scrambled up. He found that 
he was still a little light-headed, but not very 
weak, and he did not hesitate to pick up his 
cutlass and look around to see where he was most 
needed. 

The moonlight was so strong that there was no 
difficulty in getting a fair general view of the whole 
vessel, and he soon discovered that the point of 
danger was forward. There, to judge by a back- 
ward-stepping of several men, and a hot volleying of 
pistols, a boarding party was trying to effect a 
lodgment. 

He still had one loaded pistol left, and, drawing 
that and holding it in his left hand, he made a rush 
to the threatened point. 

He was yet a little unsteady on his legs, but he 
crossed the intervening space quickly, and was with 
the other defenders before the boarding party could 
clear the rail. These men were well supplied with 


33^ A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

pistols, and had fired a sharp volley, one bullet bring- 
ing down Lieutenant Williams and others wounding 
Mr. Johnson and a common seaman. 

“ Hurrah ! give it to ’em ! Don’t let ’em know the 
feeling of the deck ! ” yelled Paul. 

He saw that the fall of one officer and the disabling 
of another had momentarily confused and checked the 
men, and that the boarders might be in the midst of 
them before they rallied. 

As there was no officer left, and no one with 
authority, the men unhesitatingly obeyed the com- 
mand and rushed forward. Paul was ahead, firing 
his pistol as he went. 

The assault was so fierce that the insecurely 
perched boarders hesitated and finally gave way, and 
all at once the rail was clear. 

One man had been killed or wounded by Paul’s 
pistol, but the most of the others seemed to have 
escaped with little or no harm. They had jumped 
for the boats before the defenders could come within 
cutlass distance. 

“ ’Vast ! don’t come to the rail ! ” cried Paul, turn- 
ing and motioning his company back. “ You mustn’t 
expose yourselves. Just stand by and give it to them 
as they come in sight.” 

The men again obeyed him, and pulled up. 

“I’ll just take a peep over, and see how the land 
lies,” went on Paul. 

With the words he turned and took a quick look 
over the rail. 

“ By Jerusalem! we’ve got a chance at them ! ” he 


DESPERATE WORK. 339 

whisked around and exclaimed. “ Quick ! two of you 
fetch a couple of Long Tom’s shot.” 

The men saw what he meant, and like a flash two 
of them bolted away, and seized a couple of the 
42-pound balls. There was not a weak man in the 
Armstrong s crew, and in a trifle of seconds the two 
sailors were waddling back, each one tugging his shot. 

“ Right here with ’em. Look over and get your 
target, and then let ’em go ! ” shouted Paul again. 

The men rushed to the bulwarks, glanced over, and 
suddenly lifted the great balls and let them go. It 
seemed as though there was an appreciable interval 
of time between the act and the sudden sharp crash- 
ing of wood, but then this noise was swallowed up in 
a greater, which was a confused din of groans, oaths, 
and commands. 

“We’ve spoiled one boat, and I guess interfered 
with a few people’s comfort,” cried Paul, with a laugh. ' 
He stepped to the side and looked over, as he spoke. 

“Yes, she’s stove, and they are trying to get 
away,” he said. “ Line up here now, and give them 
something to quicken them.” 

The men were only too glad to obey, and made a 
rush to the rail. Paul left them banging away, and 
took a look farther forward. He wished to make 
sure that no boarding party was working up by the 
bow rigging. 

He found the boom arrangement of spars still in- 
tact, and no boats trying to break through. Neither 
were there any desperate boarders stealthily climbing 
up by the rigging. He turned away, meaning to ask 


340 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


one of the men to keep an eye on the spot, when his 
attention was arrested by a small, dark object moving 
out from the shore. The direct distance to the pier 
was only a few yards, but the object had started from 
a point some little distance above, and was still a 
pistol-shot away. It was evident at once that the 
object must be a human head, and Paul wondered 
what daring and fight-loving fellow could be paying 
them a visit. It seemed as though he must be a 
friend, for there could be few enemies on shore, and 
besides, such a venture on the part of a single 
boarder would be madness. Still, he meant to be 
sure, and so waited a moment, doing so the more 
readily that there was a little lull in the fight. 

The swimmer came rapidly on, and in a few 
moments was close under the brig’s bow. He 
climbed over the boom, laid hold of the martin- 
gale, and began to pull himself up. 

“ Hello ! ” called down Paul, thinking that the 
man might as well declare himself. 

“ Hello ! ” returned the fellow. “ Let me aboard, 
will you ? I’m a friend.” 

“ We are not exactly receiving friendly visits this 
evening,” said Paul, with cool humour, “but on the 
whole you may come.” 

The man quickly swung himself clear of the water, 
and came actively inboard. 

Paul had his cutlass ready, for he did not mean to 
take any chances, and as the man stepped down upon 
the deck he took a step toward him. 

“ Are you an American ? ” he asked, sharply. He 


DESPERATE WORK. 


341 


looked into the man’s face as he spoke, the moonlight, 
as the fellow was hatless, bringing it out. 

It was a long, plain, big-featured face, and was 
half covered by a straggling, tow-coloured beard. It 
was the face of a man in the early twenties, and had 
a decidedly Yankee cast. The figure was tall and 
powerful, but a little ungainly, and was clothed in 
a blue gingham shirt and dark trousers. The big 
coarse feet were bare. 

“ I rather guess I’m an American,” said the man, 
emphatically, answering Paul’s question. “ If I hadn’t 
been I shouldn’t be standin’ here. I want to help you 
fight, and if you’ll give me the tools I’ll turn to. 
But first, I want to ask a question. Is there a 
man by the name of Paul Woods? — Huh! By 
Peteration ! ” 

To Paul’s astonishment the man jumped forward, 
and thrust out his huge right hand. 

“ Don’t ye know me, Paul ? I knowed you, even if 
you have changed some, but I’ve changed more. I’m 
Sim Barton.” 

For an instant Paul forgot even the battle in his 
surprise. Of course he remembered the plucky little 
ship’s boy of the Cynthia Roche. 

“ Sim ! ” he exclaimed, grasping the outstretched 
hand. “ Can it be possible ? Well, you’ve taken a 
queer time to renew old acquaintances.” 

“ A good time for the ’quaintances, ain’t it ? ” 
laughed the sailor. “ Hello ! They’re beginning to 
spatter bullets round here again. Give me your 
fighting tools.” 


342 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


There was, in fact, no more time for talk, for the 
enemy was quickening its fire for another assault. 

Paul flew to the foremast rack, and took out a cut- 
lass. Several pistols were lying at the foot of the 
mast, and he picked up two. 

“ Here you are. Come with me.” 

He handed Sim the weapons, and led the way aft. 
Already Reid and his men were jumping up, and 
bracing and balancing themselves for the rush. It 
came the next instant. Boats thumped along the 
after part of the side, and heads bobbed up in sight 
along the entire quarter. 

The uproar began again, louder than ever. Pistols 
banged, cutlasses clashed, and grum voices roared or 
groaned. The deck once more flashed up with the 
fire-jets of the pistols, and smoke, as before, drove in 
confusing clouds about the fighters. 

Paul and Sim came dashing up, and were just in 
season to fill a gap left by the wounding of two 
sailors. 

“ There’s one for old Maine ! ” shouted the big- 
boned New Englander, smashing down his cutlass, 
with the words, on a head that was just showing 
above the rail. 

The man could not have gone out of sight more 
quickly if he had been struck by lightning. 

A general fierce slashing and pistol-banging rush 
followed, and again the rail was almost cleared of 
heads. 

“ Stand by ! They’re coming up on this side ! ” 
shouted a warning voice at that moment. 


DESPERATE WORK. 


343 


One of the men had turned in time to see three or 
four armed figures rise over the port quarter. 

“ See to them, some of you ! ” shouted Reid. 
“You, Woods, make one. Boys, give me more 
pistols.” 

Paul sprang over to his new station, Sim and two 
other men following. They were not long in clear- 
ing the rail, the attack, in fact, being rather half- 
hearted. 

Paul then turned again, and was just in season to 
witness one of the most dramatic events of the fight. 

After a hard struggle an English lieutenant and a 
few men had managed to fight their way over the bul- 
warks. Captain Reid had been taking pistols from 
the hands of two cool messenger boys and steadily 
firing, and at this moment was a few feet away from 
the rail. The English officer (his name was after- 
ward learned to be Matterface) sprang toward him 
and made a fierce slash with his cutlass. Reid, who 
was left-handed, but who was firing the pistols with 
the other hand, had barely time to bring his cutlass 
to guard, and, as it was, got a cut across the thumb 
and fore-finger. Quick as thought the aroused man 
sprang forward, swept his own steel around, and 
sent the Englishman half -headless against the 
bulwark. 

It was the turning-point of the fight. Paul and the 
others rushed forward, the dismayed boarders struck 
a few half-hearted blows, and scrambled over the 
bulwarks. 

“ Now how are- matters forward ? ” inquired Reid, 


344 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


almost as the last boarder disappeared. He looked 
that way as he spoke, and was in season to see a few 
shadowy figures rather lingeringly vanishing behind 
the bulwarks. “ Come on ! ” he instantly added. 
“ Give those fellows a parting volley ! ” 

He started at a run toward the forecastle, with 
the words, and all hands broke headlong after him. 
It took but half a dozen pistol-shots, besides the 
revived fire of the forecastle party, to drive every 
boarder into his boat. 

“ Finish the job, men ! ” sang out Reid again. 
“ Woods, get the port open and Long Tom ready. 
I’m going to give ’em a parting shot. Where is Mr. 
Williams ? ” 

“ He is dead, sir,” answered two or three respect- 
fully subdued voices together. 

“Ah, is that the case?” said the captain, in an 
altered and pained tone. “ Poor fellow ! Well, the 
duties of war will not wait. Carry the body below, 
and see that it is properly looked after. Woods, in 
loading the gun, put in a generous charge of powder 
and some extra grape. When you are ready let me 
know. I’m going to fire this shot myself.” 

“Very well, sir,” answered Paul. 

The big black machine was soon ready, and 
the captain spoken to. All the while the defeated 
flotilla was crawling slowly toward the waiting 
ships. 

Reid stepped quickly along to the breech of the 
gun, sighted, stepped back, and pulled the lanyard. 

The noise was deafening, and in the midst of it the 


DESPERATE WORK. 


345 


men about the gun plunged and tumbled suddenly 
back, for the overloaded piece bounded off its car- 
riage. 

Before the smoke had fully blown away, the men 
were craning their necks over the bulwarks, and im- 
mediately set up a shout. 

“ You’ve done the trick, cap’n ! ” cried one. “ The 
last boat is half blown out of the water. Every 
other one that’s sound is getting away.” 

“Very well,” said the captain, coolly, as he spoke 
stepping to the rail and taking a look for himself. 
“Boys,” he suddenly added, stepping back, “I be- 
lieve that now is the time to cheer. If you are ready 
— hip! hip! — ” 

It is unnecessary to say what the hurrahs were. 
When the last one had died away, several of the men 
laughed and a few sobbed. 

“Of course our troubles are not yet over,” Reid 
next said. “Those fellows will come back, and will 
keep at us till they take the vessel. They will try 
some other form of attack, and no doubt will have 
the help of their brig. In the day-time they can use 
her to better advantage. Well, what I purpose to 
do is to pepper them at first and then scuttle the 
ship and go ashore. I am not going to sacrifice all 
our lives by fighting when there is no use in it. Mr. 
Todd,” — to one of the quartermasters, — “see to 
clearing up the deck. Woods, you and your crew get 
Long Tom back on his carriage.” 

There was a bustle to carry out these orders, and 
in the midst of it voices began to hail them from the 


346 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


shore. The piers and sea-wall were all this time 
black with people. 

“ Have you driven them entirely off ? ” shouted 
one of the persons, in good English. 

“That you, Mr. Dabney? ” answered Reid, think- 
ing he recognised the voice. “Yes, by the blessing 
of God, we’ve beaten them back.” 

A tremendous cheer instantly went up from the 
listening crowd. 

“ We’ve got some friends there,” remarked Thurs- 
ton to Paul Woods. 

“Yes,” was the answer. “Several of them are 
Americans, though the sympathies of most of the 
others are evidently with us. I suppose that’s partly 
because the English have used them so. I mean in 
violating the neutrality laws.” 

Here the dialogue came to an end, for they had to 
be ready for active work. 

By this time the captain had made inquiry as to 
his losses. Mr. Williams and one seaman (Burton 
Lloyd) were dead, and Mr. Worth, Mr. Johnson, and 
five seamen were wounded. Besides these, a few 
other men had received slight cuts or other hurts, 
but did not consider them worth reporting. On the 
part of the boarders the loss must have been terrible. 
Exposed at first to the fire of the heavy guns, and 
then placed at the disadvantage of trying to climb 
the high bulwarks, they had fallen like plague-smitten 
cattle. Just off the quarter floated two boats loaded 
with dead and dying, and immediately under the 
stern was another, in which almost every man seemed 


DESPERATE WORK. 


347 


to have been killed. It was afterward learned that 
four men, including a lieutehant, had swum ashore 
from this boat. Adding these losses to those already 
known, the total footed up nearly two hundred killed 
and disabled . 1 

It was a most astonishing list, and yet it needed 
only a glimpse over the rail to make it creditable. 
Even on the blockading ships were evident excite- 
ment and confusion, and the raised notes of com- 
mand, and now and then a wailing cry, like that of 
one in distress, came indistinctly down the wind. 

It was not long before the big gun was again on 
its carriage and the decks cleared up. During this 
time no further communication was attempted from 
the shore, but just as things were about at rights a 
boat put off from one of the piers, and the single 
person that it contained began pulling toward the 
brig. As he came up he rose and faced around, and 
was then found to be a trig-looking young fellow in a 
dark suit and straw hat. After a moment Captain 
Reid recognised him as the son of Mr. Dabney. 

“ Father sent you this,” he called out, with the 
words tossing a weighted piece of paper over the rail. 
“ I mustn’t stop. You made a glorious fight ! ” 

He squared around and rowed away again, stop- 
ping only to wave his hand in farewell. 

Captain Reid took the note, as it was handed to 
him, and hastily unfolded and read it. He might 

1 The British admitted a loss of sixty-three killed and one hun- 
dred and ten wounded, but it is believed by several disinterested 
authorities that the loss was considerably greater. — The Author. 


34-8 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

have looked a little more serious when he had fin- 
ished, but made no remark, and resumed his former 
walk up and down the deck. Perhaps ten minutes 
passed, and then he beckoned to one of the quarter- 
masters. 

“ I am going ashore. Have the gig ready. In 
my absence you will command the deck, and will 
keep a sharp lookout for danger. I shall not be 
gone long.” 

The boat was soon in the water and the captain 
in it and away. He was gone perhaps half an hour. 
Almost the moment that he was on the deck again 
he began to issue rapid orders. 

“ Mr. Todd, go below and tell the surgeon to get 
the wounded ready to take ashore. Pack up Mr. 
Worth’s and Mr. Johnson’s personal effects for 
them. See that the ship’s charts and instruments 
are put together ready for removal. Woods, go 
among the men and tell them to pack their kits 
and have them ready to take ashore. Mr. Ham- 
mond, if you are able to do duty, will you see that 
both cutters are lowered and manned ? ” 

This last order was addressed to a man that had 
just come up from below. He was a quartermaster 
who had been shot through the arm, but who had 
waited only to have the wound dressed and was now 
pluckily back at his post. 

It did not take long to carry the wounded and the 
various goods and valuables ashore, and when this 
was done the captain briefly inspected the guns and 
sent the men once more to quarters. 


DESPERATE WORK. 


349 


They were scarcely there before day broke, and 
through a faint bit of morning haze the white sails 
of the English brig came out. 

“ Boys, we’ll have one more crack at those fellows,” 
said Reid, raising his voice. “ I will tell you what 
news it is I’ve learned,” he went on, stepping along 
till he was midway of the rail. “ Those chaps mean 
to have the brig, cost what it will, and the governor 
of the island can’t help himself. Mr. Dabney wants 
us to scuttle the vessel and go ashore, and I’m going 
to, but first I want to give the guns another chance 
to speak. Now stand by and do your best, and we’ll 
finish a job that our children will be proud of ! ” 

He wound up with a flourish of his bandaged hand, 
and walked back to his place. 

A cheer followed him, and the deck was noisy for 
a moment with the stir of last preparations. Some 
threw their coats from their bare shoulders and rubbed 
their arms, others tightened their belts, or looked at the 
priming of their pistols, and still others took prelimi- 
nary squints along the guns. Nearly all bit off fresh 
chews of tobacco. 

The sails of the Carnation (that afterward proved 
to be the name of the English brig) grew rapidly 
plainer, and as a final gauze of mist vanished she 
came out in her full size and grimness, and at the 
same instant opened fire. 

A kind of hollow roaring, followed by a tearing 
sound, as of cloth suddenly split apart, succeeded, 
but the men correctly guessed that it was only 
shot passing immediately overhead. 


350 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


“ You can answer at will ! ” came from the quarter- 
deck, in Reid’s usual steadfast tones. “Keep at it 
till I give orders to stop, or the brig hauls off ! ” 

The general crash of the guns followed, and the 
final chapter of the fight had begun. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


ALL IS WELL AT LAST. 

P AUL WOODS was now on his mettle, for this 
was to be the last of Long Tom, 1 and he meant 
that it should go into the mud with something to be 
remembered by. Carefully he sighted before he 
fired it, and once or twice he put a handspike under 
the carriage and pried it a bit this way or that. At 
last his pains and coolness were rewarded. Once 
the gun did not go off till a clear interval after the 
battery, and when it did the foretopmast of the 
Carnation crackled, and in a moment went down 
into the slings. 

“ Good ! ” shouted Reid, enthusiastically. “ Do 
that again ! ” 

Paul did almost do it again, for at a time when it 
was clearly his work he wounded the brig’s maintop- 
mast and made it totter. 

Meanwhile no serious damage had been done by 
the Carnation s fire. A few spars had been struck 
and some sails torn, but that was about all. Not a 
person had been hurt. 

Closer and more searching, as the gunners got the 

1 But this famous gun was afterward recovered and is now in the 
United States. — The Author. 

35 1 


352 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


range, the fire of the privateer became. One shot 
was driven straight through a port, and must have 
killed or wounded several men, and a discharge of 
the whole battery dismounted a gun. Still other 
shots tore through sails and cut rigging. At last 
a gun on the Armstrong was struck and thrown 
from its carriage, but no one was hurt, and a little 
later a shot hit the captain’s gig. The greater part 
of the balls passed high overhead. It afterward 
proved that they did the most of their damage 
ashore, as several persons were wounded there, 
and a number of houses hit. 

Finally the Englishman’s maintopmast seemed 
about to go, and it was then that he evidently 
had enough and began to haul off. 

“ Cease firing ! ” shouted Reid, motioning with his 
sheathed sword. 

The word was quickly caught, and the toiling 
fellows knocked off and stood erect in their places. 

The smoke drifted away, and what seemed to be a 
singular quiet took the place of the tremendous din. 

“Boys,” said Reid, in a deep and almost solemn 
tone, “ we’ve finished our work. We shall never fire 
another gun on the Armstrongs and we must now 
abandon her. I thank you for your plucky and 
patriotic behaviour, and for the excellent way in 
which you have obeyed my commands. No officer 
could ask for a better crew. Now stand by all, and 
be ready to board the boats.” 

There was a murmur of gratification which swelled 
to a cheer, as the gallant officer finished. Withal, 


ALL IS WELL AT . LAST. 


353 


the brave fellows were a little saddened, for they 
hated to abandon the noble little ship. It seemed 
almost like deserting a friend. But this was no time 
for sentiment, and they quickly did as they were 
ordered, and prepared to board the boats. 

The last heroic sacrifice was made ; the ship was 
scuttled, and the crews manned the boats and shoved 
off. At the final moment some of the men asked 
permission to bring away the ship’s figurehead, or 
the “ General,” as they called it, and the permission 
was granted. The figure was quickly cut away and 
taken aboard. 

As the successive crews made the pier, they were 
greeted by the waiting crowd — especially by the 
Americans — with enthusiastic cheers. Mr. Dab- 
ney took them forthwith in charge, and secured 
them comfortable quarters, carrying off the officers 
to his own house. 

A few of the party, including Paul, finally went 
back to the shore, and, from there, saw the end of 
the glorious little brig. The people of the Carnation, 
having made temporary repairs of the worst of their 
vessel’s injuries, brought her back, and anchored at 
short cannon-range. From there they fired a few 
shots, but of course got no reply, and finally sent 
two boats. These pulled cautiously about the brig 
for a few minutes, but it being at last clear that she 
was deserted, they steered in and the crews boarded. 
They did not stay long, but came hastily over the 
side again and pulled away. By the time they fetched 
their own ship, clouds of smoke were rising from the 


354 


A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 


privateer, and the cause of their haste was apparent. 
As it happened, the water reached the magazine 
before the fire did, and there was no explosion, but 
the rest of the spiteful job was successful. The poor 
craft leaped into flame and smoke, and left only the 
blackened sinking hull. 

It seemed as though the trials and perils of the 
little company might now be over, but this did not 
prove to be quite the case. Captain ^Lloyd, who 
commanded the attacking ships, was full of rage and 
chagrin, and immediately prepared to push his ven- 
geance another step. Totally disregarding the gov- 
ernor’s protests, he merely stopped long enough to 
bury his dead, and then landed a fighting force of 
marines and seamen. Reid and his crew were, 
of course, ready for contingencies like this, and they 
promptly made preparations for another stout de- 
fence. They were told of an old ruined convent that 
was strong enough to stand an ordinary siege, and 
marched to it and took possession. There was a dry 
moat around it, crossed only by a drawbridge. This 
drawbridge they knocked away, and so left the build- 
ing isolated. 

But their pluck was not destined to be further tried. 
Captain Lloyd had now cooled off a little, and doubt- 
less thought that he had carried his high-handed 
undertaking far enough. What he had done already 
might get him into trouble. The governor would 
make complaints, and there would be an investigation. 
He therefore abstained from further active measures, 
and merely sent word to Reid, asking that any English 


ALL IS WELL AT LAST. 


355 


deserters among the Armstrong s crew might be sur- 
rendered. This request, or demand, was backed by 
a courteous letter from the governor, asking that the 
concession should be made, and Reid concluded to 
comply. He would not have done so, however, had 
he not been sure that there were no English deserters 
among his crew. As compliance required an inspec- 
tion of the men by the English captain, Reid sent the 
whole crew at once to the governor’s residence, where 
they were under official protection. There they were 
met by Captain Lloyd and some of his officers, and 
looked over. It proved to be a brief matter, and was 
conducted without any violation of propriety or unfair- 
ness. It ended with the abandonment by the cap- 
tain of further claims, and the men were immediately 
allowed to depart. 

As it was now evident that the British commander 
would attempt no more harsh acts, Reid and his men 
returned to the town. Here a queer little incident, 
illustrating, certainly, some of the peculiar traits of 
the English character, took place. Captain Reid 
was formally invited to call on Captain Lloyd and his 
principal officers, and, though he was advised by sev- 
eral of the people of the town not to go, he unhesi- 
tatingly accepted. That he might do full credit to 
his country and the men under him, he put on a full 
naval uniform, including long-skirted coat, silk sash, 
and new-fashioned blue trousers, and went boldly to 
the house designated. To his surprise, several British 
officers, standing on the green before the door, politely, 
and with an air of profound respect, raised their hats 


356 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

to him. He acknowledged this civility dignifiedly, 
and yet with a kindly air, and passed on, and was 
shown into the presence of Lloyd and the other 
officers. 

Here he was again greeted with respect, though 
with a little more reserve, and wine was rather cere- 
moniously served. Finally, after a few discursive 
remarks, a little courteous questioning on the part of 
the company began. It seemed that they could not 
explain to themselves the disproportionate harm that 
the two fighting forces had inflicted on each other. 

“ Cannon against small arms, and a ship’s side 
against unprotected boats, explains the most of it,” 
answered Reid, modestly, when the case was stated. 

But the officers were too fair and generous to admit 
this. 

“ It accounts for a good deal of the difference in 
loss, of course,” said Lloyd himself, “but not for all. 
You and your men must have aimed like sharp- 
shooters. Besides, we have thought that perhaps 
you wore some kind of bullet-proof armour. Will 
you kindly tell us whether this was the case ? ” - 

Captain Reid was naturally surprised, and, for an 
instant, almost indignant. 

“Protected! Why, sir,” he finally said, “my men 
had steel-strapped helmets, but that was all. They 
had no protection for their bodies.” 

“ But some of our men swore that they planted bul- 
lets squarely on your body,” now a little hesitatingly 
persisted Lloyd. “ We thought that perhaps you 
wore a shirt of mail.” 


ALL IS WELL AT LAST. 


357 


At this Reid looked amused, and then began to 
smile. 

“ Captain, and the rest of you gentlemen,” he said, 
“ I assure you that I wore nothing but my ordinary 
clothes. You yourself saw me in my shirt-sleeves. 
Still, I did wear a linen shirt, and that, I admit, was 
a shirt of male.” 

The officers had already grown more genial, as the 
captain’s good nature made itself apparent, and as 
he finished, the last reserve melted, and they burst 
into a hearty laugh. 

The rest of the call, as might be supposed, was of 
a more agreeable character than the beginning, and 
ended with considerable good feeling on both sides. 

This little incident finished the important or in- 
teresting doings of Reid and his men during their 
stay. They finally found a Portuguese brig that was 
bound for a port near home, and took passage on her. 
From Amelia Island, which was her destination, they 
took ship directly for an American port. They 
reached St. Mary’s, Florida, about the middle of 
November. There they found a ship bound to 
Savannah, and took passage on her. From Savannah 
they proceeded to New York. 

Here they got news of the war, and learned that 
there was no change in the general situation. The 
enemy had taken Washington, and had done a 
moderate amount of damage thefe, besides humili- 
ating the country, but had not yet made the expected 
attack on New Orleans. This, however, was believed 
to be only deferred. 


358 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

At New York their travels as a ship’s company 
came to an end, and they bade good-bye to one 
another, and went their several ways. They were 
comparatively easy for money, for they had received 
several generous gifts from admiring people along 
the way, — in fact, their progress was a sort of 
triumph, — and many things that they would ordi- 
narily have had to pay for were given them. 

In speaking of the separation of the company in 
New York, it should have been mentioned that Paul, 
Sim Barton, and Thurston still kept together. At 
New York they ran across a patriotic skipper who 
was glad to give them a passage to Boston, and from 
there they proceeded on a little fisherman directly to 
Portland. Barton had now attached himself to Paul, 
— like a barnacle, as he expressed it, — and declared 
that he was not to be shaken off. There was nobody 
else in the world that took any interest in him, he 
said, and no one that he liked half so well. He had 
a little money, it seemed, for he had been saving and 
prudent, and he was thus, in a limited sense, finan- 
cially independent. At least, he was not obliged to 
go to work immediately. It might perhaps be ex- 
plained here — what he had long ago told Paul — 
the facts as to how he came to be at Da Horta. 
The explanation was simple enough, and was merely 
to the effect that the captain and first officer of 
a ship in which he had come there were brutal, 
drunken ruffians, and almost impossible to get along 
with, and that he had quit them, and was waiting for 
another ship. He had picked up, from something 


ALL IS WELL AT LAST. 


359 


said by one of Reid’s gig’s crew, that Paul was on 
the brig, and when the fight reached the point it 
did, he made up his mind to risk everything, and join 
his old friend. 

As Paul liked and respected the honest fellow, 
there was no opposition to the desire on Sim’s part, 
and the two men in due time stepped ashore at the 
little cove. It would take more space than there is 
to spare to tell how the old captain welcomed them, 
and what questions and long explanations followed. 
Of course the old gentleman was as proud as a pea- 
cock at Paul’s success as a gunner, and though he 
might have taken some of the credit of it to himself, 
he generously forbore to do so. Paul, however, saw 
that a proper share of the honour went where it was 
due. 

Sim Barton now became regularly installed as a 
member of the family. He made an arrangement 
with Captain Teague by which he became a kind of 
man-of-all-work, and took some of the regular labour 
off Paul’s hands. Paul then took the greater part of 
the care and general oversight, leaving the old cap- 
tain, who had grown rather infirm, little to do. Sim 
was a faithful and energetic worker, and gave entire 
satisfaction, as well as pleased himself. 

The war was by this time almost at an end. In 
fact, it lasted only a few weeks after the crew of the 
Armstrong reached home, and so there was nothing 
to call either Paul or Sim back upon a war-ship. As 
to the life of a merchant sailor, both concluded that 
they had seen enough of it, though Paul’s prospects, 


360 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

taking into consideration his experience and technical 
knowledge, seemed very fair. Though the war itself 
lasted but a few weeks after the arrival of the Arm- 
strong s people in the States, the treaty itself was not 
signed till the 24th of December. As it happened, 
the most important battle of the war took place the 
day previous, though the news did not reach the 
peace commissioners (in Ghent) till some time after- 
ward. The threatened attack upon New Orleans 
was made, and the British suffered a terrible defeat. 
General Jackson and his sturdy borderers proved 
more than a match for the veteran soldiers of Eng- 
land. As one writer expresses it, speaking of the 
final assault of the English : “ All that brave men 
and experienced leaders could do was done, but 
before those fatal rifles no foe could stand.” But 
here there is something to be added, and which is 
especially called for in view of the fight of the Arm- 
strong. The victory of Jackson, glorious as it was, 
would have been rendered doubtful had all of the 
British fleet been on hand to operate against him. 
Those absent were so because of the fight made by 
the little privateer. They were under orders to 
proceed to New Orleans, and, but for the terrible 
slaughter of the officers and men, would have gone 
there at once, and doubtless would have arrived in 
time to take part in the battle. As it was, they 
stopped to bury their dead, and to make the neces- 
sary changes and new appointments caused by their 
loss, and in the end sailed too late. 

But this was not the only noteworthy service that 


ALL IS WELL AT LAST. 


361 


Captain Reid rendered his country. It may be men- 
tioned here, as interesting, though it has nothing to 
do with Paul Woods or his fortunes, that the captain 
designed the present arrangement of the American 
flag. It was at his suggestion and recommendation 
that the plan of reducing the number of stripes to the 
original thirteen, but adding, as before, a star for each 
new State, was adopted. Before that, stripes as well 
as stars had been added with the admission of new 
States. 

Two years went by on the quiet Maine farm, and 
nothing of importance happened. At the end of 
that time good old Captain Teague died. He had 
for several months been in poor health, so that the 
outcome was not a surprise. Upon investigation, it 
was found that he had made a will, and that he had 
left all he was worth to Paul. The entire property 
amounted to over twelve thousand dollars, and was 
more than half in cash. Twelve thousand dollars 
meant a little fortune in those days, at least for a 
New England farmer, and Paul was, therefore, in 
extraordinary luck. He immediately raised Sim’s 
wages, hired an additional man, and took life a little 
easier. He made an occasional trip to Boston or 
New York, and once visited Philadelphia. But in 
general he was more contented in his own comforta- 
ble little home. 

In about a year more there was a change in the 
quiet household, for Sim Barton married. He took 
a girl from the neighbouring village, and was lucky 
enough to get a person excellently suited to him. 


362 A TAR OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 

She liked the idea of living on Paul’s farm, and was 
entirely contented there, and so this part of the 
arrangement was easily made. Paul was well satis- 
fied to have a capable housewife on the premises, for 
the faithful old negro woman was unable to keep up 
with the added labour. 

This condition of affairs lasted a year more, and 
then Paul himself married. The young lady was the 
daughter of the village doctor, and was bright and 
good-looking, but was not physically very robust. 
An arrangement, therefore, was made with Sim’s 
wife, who retained the management of the farm 
affairs, and a stout girl-of-all-work was hired to per- 
form the rest of the rougher and harder labour. The 
old negro woman, Aunt Judy, was now made a kind 
of honourable pensioner, though she insisted upon 
doing a part of the lighter work. After awhile she 
found still other and to her more agreeable employ- 
ment, for now there were children running about the 
place, — two little Woods’s and two Bartons. These 
were certainly sufficient to keep a stout old mammy 
out of idleness. 

But there is no call to add much more to this 
history. It has already taken up the doings of a 
second generation of probable heroes and heroines, 
and it is time to stop. Paul and Sim lived to an 
advanced age, and did not forfeit the place in the 
esteem of those who knew them that their integrity 
and manly qualities had won. When Paul died there 
was placed upon his grave — for it was in his will that 
it should be done — the captain’s old 12-pound gun. 


ALL IS WELL AT LAST. 


363 


“I desire that there shall be no other monument,” 
the will said. “ Let it be given a coat of black paint, 
occasionally, and so stand. Perhaps it will remind 
some who see it that the man who sleeps under it 
once did a small service for his country, and in all 
things throughout his life strove to fight for the truth 
and not flinch from his gun.” 

It was the closing sentence of this clause of the 
will, in fact, which was painted for an epitaph on the 
gun. It has occasionally been renewed, and can be 
read still, teaching in its simple language a lesson to 
patriots of these later and less trying times. 


THE END. 


































































































































' . 















APPENDIX. 


Bangor, Me., July 5, 1900. 

Dear Mr. Costello : — I am gratified to learn 
from you that the details furnished by me from Cap- 
tain Reid’s papers, now in my possession, have been 
of so much service in the preparation of your forth- 
coming story, “ A Tar of the Old School.” 

The tale throughout is delightfully told, and the 
incidents of the battle between the brig General 
Armstrong and the British fleet are recorded by you 
with a historical accuracy as refreshing as it is rare. 

Believe me cordially yours, 

Frederic H. Parkhurst . 1 

To Mr. F. H. Costello, Bangor, Me. 


Brief History of the Gun “ Long Tomf used on the 
Brigantine “ General Armstrong f in the Bat- 
tle of Fayal \ 1814. 

This gun was taken from the French ship of the 
line La Hoche when she was captured by the Eng- 


1 Mr. Frederic H. Parkhurst married a granddaughter of Captain 
Reid, of the Armstrong ; and assisted Col. Samuel C. Reid, son of 

365 


366 


APPENDIX. 


lish, in 1798, and was carried to England and sold, 
together with the rest of her armament. The 
armament was purchased by some Americans who 
were in England at the time, and was carried to 
America, and all but “Long Tom” was sold to the 
United States government. This particular gun had 
suffered a little injury to the muzzle, which caused it 
to be rejected. It lay around as old junk for awhile, 
but when the war of 1812 broke out was bought 
by private parties, reamed out, so as to correct the 
fault with the muzzle, and was finally mounted on 
the General Armstrong. After it went down with 
the vessel, at Fayal, it lay in the mud for a time, 
but was finally raised by the Portuguese local gov- 
eanment and mounted. After a time, through the 
efforts of Mr. S. C. Reid, son of the famous captain 
of the privateer, the United States government was 
induced to obtain from Portugal a return of the 
gun ; and a commission was accordingly sent after it, 
and it was brought back to the United States, arriv- 
ing in 1892. It has been remarked, as rather an odd 
coincidence, that it was absent from the country a 
period just equal to Captain Reid’s life, or seventy- 
eight years. During the World’s Fair at Chicago, 
the old gun was thought of sufficient importance to 
send out for exhibition, and it was set up on the lake 
front. It is considered to have taken the lives of a 
large proportion of the 250 or 300 men believed to 
have been killed in the battle. It is now in honoured 

Captain Reid, in preparing a full account of the battle of Fayal and 
incidents connected therewith. 


APPENDIX. 


367 


retirement under the flag of what might be called its 
adopted country, and it has seen that flag broaden 
from the scope of fifteen stars to its present splendid 
firmament. 

















































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